


for you, i would (Semi-Hiatus from the 23rd July)

by BayleyWinchester



Category: Marvel
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Bucky Barnes Feels, Child Abuse, Consensual Underage Sex, Multi, POV Alternating, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Steve Rogers, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Student Bucky Barnes, Students, Teacher Steve Rogers, Teacher-Student Relationship, Teenage Bucky, age gap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-03-02 13:19:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18811711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BayleyWinchester/pseuds/BayleyWinchester
Summary: As Mr. Rogers handed the papers out Bucky turned to Nat, “holy shit.”“I agree.”“I think I’m in love, Nat.”Natasha rolled her eyes. “So dramatic. You don’t even know his name.”“Uh, you said you loved that guy at Starbucks the other day, and you’re in a relationship.”“That guy wasn’t my teacher, Bucky. It was also a joke.”“I’m joking as well,” Bucky scoffed. “I don’t even know his name.”---Steve Rogers moved schools in the middle of the year. He was expecting a rowdy class of teenagers who couldn't care less about math and enjoyed making his life hard. He definitely got that last bit.James Barnes had been at the same high school his entire life. He's popular, on the football team, and well liked by most. He's also always been single. That is, until new teacher, Mr. Rogers comes into his life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is underage! Bucky is 17 and Steve is 26!! Steve is also Bucky's teacher. Please be aware of that before reading!! This is a student/teacher fic. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

Bucky’s math class had been told that their teacher was going on maternity leave but the idea had gone in one ear and out the other. Because, really, who the hell cares? So it was very much a surprise to walk into their classroom on Monday and see an extremely attractive man instead of their heavily pregnant teacher. Bucky looked the new teacher over, appreciating the view, before making his way to his seat at the back of the room. He was one of the last ones in, as usual, so almost as soon as he sat down next to Nat the class began.

At their new teacher's voice, Bucky nearly melted. Everything about this man was absolutely gorgeous, the almost skin-tight button up and slacks fit perfectly, showing him off in a professional way. The glasses he had resting on his nose framed his face in a sinful way and his hair was messy but styled at the same time. Bucky couldn’t stop staring at him. He doubted he ever would. Not with the new teacher looking like that. 

“Good morning everyone, I’m Mr. Rogers, your teacher for the rest of the year. Mrs. Van Dyne had to go on maternity leave early. Hopefully, we can have a good time together. Today is going to be very simple, I have a little test for you to do. It’s not graded, it’s just so I can see where everyone is at.”

As Mr. Rogers handed the papers out Bucky turned to Nat, “holy shit.”

“I agree.”

“I think I’m in love, Nat.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “So dramatic. You don’t even know his name.”

“Uh, you said you loved that guy at Starbucks the other day, and you’re in a relationship.”

“That guy wasn’t my teacher, Bucky. It was also a joke.”

“I’m joking as well,” Bucky scoffed. “I don’t even know his name.” 

The two of them stopped talking when Mr. Rogers came closer. Bucky watched him, almost to the point of creepy, as he made his way to them. He was even better looking up close. His smile was damn near blinding as he handed them both the paper. Bucky didn’t miss the way his new teacher’s gaze lingered on him longer than Nat. Longer than everyone else in the class actually. Not that he was complaining about it. 

Not even sparing a glance at the page Bucky rested his head. No point in trying when he didn’t know a single thing on that page. Math and Bucky did not mix. He had never been good at the subject and was fully intending on failing the year, just like every other year. It wasn’t like he had a choice in the matter. He just couldn’t do it. The equations never made sense, the answers were never right and it all made his head hurt so he didn’t even try. 

He sat in silence, lost in his own thoughts about everything and anything, until ten minutes to the bell. Mr. Rogers walked around, collecting the papers and told everyone to do whatever until class was over. When he got to them he took Nat’s with a nod and small smile before moving onto Buckys. At some point, Nat must have written his name on the top of the page, because Bucky sure as hell didn’t. Mr. Rogers looked at the page, the smile dropping to a small frown. 

“Math not really your thing?” Mr Rogers asked.

Bucky shrugged, “never been good at it.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Mr. Rogers replied, waving his test. 

“It’s a zero. Which is what I would have gotten if I had tried.”

Mr. Rogers nodded, “well we have to see about fixing that then, don’t we?”

“Do you know a miracle worker? Because that’s what you need.” 

Smiling now, Mr. Rogers shook his head. “We’ll see.” And then he was moving onto the next table, collecting the rest of the papers. Bucky watched him go, only turning around when Natasha hit his arm. 

“Ow!”

“That was to cute,” she teased. “I love how you got in there with the self-hate straight away, let him now he’s dealing with someone who doesn’t know what the fuck they're talking about.” 

He rolled his eyes, “it’s not self-hate if it’s true - ”

“Yes, it is. And no it’s not.”

“ - And, I’m not cute.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

Natasha was going to respond when the bell went, cutting her off. Bucky sent her a sickly sweet look before the two of them stood. They walked out of the class together and as they did so, Bucky could swear someone was watching him from behind. 

\--- 

Steve could do this. He had been teaching for five years now, and this wasn’t the first time he had taught a classroom by himself. This was, however, the first time he had come to a school midway through the year and picked up a class. Yeah, he could do this but he was nervous too. Steve tapped his pen on his desk as he waited for the bell to ring. He was prepared, he had his lessons planned. He knew how to teach. He knew what to do. He could do this.

The bell went and almost instantly there was a steady stream of students, all of them sending Steve a confused look. Not that he could blame them, they had absolutely no idea who he was. He wasn’t even from this school. He tried to look at ease with everything. If he could be happy then the kids would be happy. So he took a few deep breaths and smiled at every kid that walked in. He could do this. 

But then the door opened again, right before the second bell was going to go, and another student walked in. Steve had to control himself seeing as his thoughts were highly, highly, inappropriate. This student was one of the most beautiful people Steve had ever seen. His eyes were bright but disinterested, his hair was long and framed his face. A face that Steve was all too happy to stare at. The student - Steve really needed to learn his name - looked Steve over before moving to the back of the class to sit next to the redhead. 

After a moment of collecting himself, Steve stood and introduced himself. Having to make a conscious effort to not stare at the student in the back the entire time. 

Sheets were handed out and Steve was left to his devices for a few moments. He stared at the list of names and faces on his computer screen. The class was mainly silent, a few pairs whispered to each other. Steve let it be so he could focus on the task at hand. It was more important. For two reasons, one, he needed to learn his students' names, he could hardly tell students to stop talking when he didn’t know their names and two, he wanted to find out - and there it was. James. 

While they were testing Steve went through the next classes lesson plan - more of the same sadly, testing was the worst part of teaching - and he had to stop himself staring at James at the back of the class. Occasionally he would scan the room, all teachers do, and his gaze would absolutely linger. James had taken up a nap like position on the table, his head resting on his arms. He looked adorable. 

Steve really needed to get a hold of himself. 

\--- 

The next morning Bucky arrived at school before the first bell went, which in itself was an achievement, and made his way to his math class. Was Mr. Rogers the reason he was on time? Maybe. Perhaps this new teacher could get his attendance back to a normal level. He was there before Natasha, which was the real surprise here. She was always bright and early. Bucky could never understand it. 

He sat down at his usual desk and started messing around on his phone. Clint, Nat’s boyfriend, had messaged him on his work to school. He didn’t look up until a shadow covered him. Looking up he was meet with the sight of Mr. Rogers standing in front of him, a smile on his face and paper in hand. Bucky turned his phone off, his teacher did not need to see his messages. Thank you.

“It’s too early to be smiling.” 

“What?”

“It’s like dawn, how are you smiling?”

Mr. Rogers laughed, “I like the mornings.”

“I can’t believe that.”

“Not a morning person?” Mr. Rogers asked and even though it was rhetorical Bucky shook his head. Mr. Rogers knelt down in front of his desk, so they were face to face, and placed Bucky’s empty test on his desk. “I set this so I could see where everyone was at so that I can help them. I can’t help you if I don’t know where you’re at. So, James, can you please try one of the equations.”

“Bucky.”

“Pardon?”

Bucky shrugged lightly, slightly embarrassed at the situation. “My name is Bucky. I don’t like James.” 

“How do you get Bucky out of James?”

“My middle name is Buchanan.”

“Alright, Bucky, can you please try an equation before class?” Mr. Rogers asked again and Bucky nodded. This man, he couldn’t say no to him. Pulling the test to him Bucky scanned over all the questions. Fully aware that Mr. Rogers was watching him as he did so. The first three were no go’s. Bucky didn’t even know what they were asking for. The fourth one was a little better but he had no idea how to get the answer. Number five was the best option, seeing as Bucky didn’t even recognize questions 6 through 12. 

Sighing, Bucky tried to answer it. Pausing to re-read the question more than he cared to admit. “I don’t know,” he said as he returned the page. Now with one answer that was most likely completely wrong. 

“You’re only off by one step,” Mr. Rogers wrote something in pencil and then circled it. “You are actually really close.”

“What?” Bucky asked in disbelief. Using his pencil to point, Mr. Rogers showed Bucky which step he had done wrong, which in turn messed up everything else. “If I had done that right I would have gotten it?”

 

“Yes.”

“I, oh.”

Mr. Rogers smiled, “you’re not dumb Ja-Bucky. You just need to practise a little so that you can fully grasp the concepts. Do you think you can do the rest?”

“No. I don’t even understand the question. I have no idea what to do there.”

“Alright, we can work on it. Don’t worry,” Mr. Rogers said softly. Natasha made her way over to them, cutting Bucky off. Mr. Rogers stood up, collecting the test. “Good morning, Miss Romanoff.”

“Morning, sir.”

“I should probably get back to the other students,” Mr. Rogers said with a smile. “Try and work today, Bucky. Let’s see where it gets you.”

“Okay.”

\---

At lunch that day Bucky was subject to a fair bit of teasing. Natasha had very quickly messaged Clint and Sam about what was going on in their math class. Luckily they hadn’t told anyone else. Bucky didn’t need the entire student body knowing he found his math teacher hot. Which was, oddly, not what he was being teased about. No, he was being teased for actually trying in a class. 

Over the few years at high school, Bucky had built up a reputation. Good at sports, bad at school work. He was also, apparently, a ladies man. Which didn’t make sense but hey, students lie all the time. But, because of that, the idea that Bucky actually did work in his math class - because he did, he actually tried (and failed but whatever) all lesson - was the joke of the day. 

“Could you imagine if Bucky actually passes math this year?” Clint laughed, “just because his teacher is hot?” 

“Yeah, it’s hilarious,” Bucky deadpanned. 

Sam hit his back in a somewhat friendly manner, “it is.”

“You should see the way he looks at Mr. Rogers. It’s like he-”

“Alright, let’s change the subject.”

“To what?” Sam asked, “please, Nat, continue.” 

“What about the fact that you fell into a pond at the party on Saturday?”

Clint and Nat both burst out laughing as Sam buried his head in his hands. “I hate you.”

“Love you too. Oh, so I was talking to coach before lunch and Friday’s game has been postponed.”

Everyone at the table - even the ones who weren’t involved in the conversation - groaned loudly. All the footballers sat together every lunch period. Nat, and a few other cheerleaders, sat with them as well. Clint groaned the loudest and then asked, “why?” 

“Hydra High’s entire team got Mono at a party last week. There’s no one for us to play.”

“That makes it a forfeit,” Dugan said sourly and everyone nodded in agreement. 

“Yeah, but apparently it makes our team look good to everyone if we postpone it or something. Coach is pissed as well.”

“It’s gotta reflect pretty poorly if the entire team got mono though,” Dugan said.

Clint laughed, “I hope so.”

The bell went before anyone else could say anything and the group got up, throwing their rubbish in the bin as they made their way to their next period class. There were a few teachers walking in the hallway, including Mr. Rogers, who was walking with Tech teacher Mr. Stark. He looked just as good in the hallway as he did in the classroom. As Bucky walked away, heading to French, Sam yelled after him - “enjoy your math homework tonight, Bucky!”

“Fuck off, Sam!”

“Language, Bucky,” Mr. Rogers said with a wink. Bucky damn near died.


	2. Chapter 2

Bucky, on Tuesday nights, had football practise. Had done since he started high school. He, along with Sam and Clint and some of their other friends, headed out to the boys changing room alongside the field after their last period. They stopped a few times, people liked talking to them, so they ended up having to haul ass to get to training on time. Clint, who was drowning his fourth cup of shitty coffee that day, started the conversation off as they walked to the changing rooms. “So, I told Nat to get me a photo of you looking all gooey eyes at Rogers.”

“Why?”

“Blackmail. Laughs. A new group chat profile pic,” Clint listed off. “All sorts of reasons.”

Sam laughed, “I like that last one.” 

“Don’t. I have plenty of pictures I can use of you two.”

“What’s the deal with that?” Jim, one of their teammates, asked. “I heard a few girls going gaga over the new maths teacher, is that him?”

“He’s hot. Nothing more,” Bucky lied. Well, to be honest, there wasn’t anything else. It was more like - Bucky wanted there to be more. But right now Mr. Rogers was his maths teacher, his hot maths teacher, but nothing else. But, to be fair, it wasn’t just that he was hot. While Bucky didn’t know Mr. Rogers he found that he was extremely attracted to every part of the man, from his looks to the way he stood to the way he spoke. It was all good. Bucky had never paid so much attention in maths. 

There were a few more comments fired off as they got changed. Some jokes and a couple of jabs but by the time they were on the field they were over it. What else was there to say? It wasn’t like Bucky had a new boyfriend. That would get a few days at least of friends pissing him off. But this? Nothing more to laugh about. Which was both good and bad for Bucky as he stood waiting for their coach and half listening to Dugan’s story about a party that had happened. 

It was good for a very simple reason - his friends were really annoying. If he didn’t have to deal with their dumb jokes and half-baked jabs then he considered it a win. Now, it was also extremely bad for Bucky for a much more complicated reason. Because he wanted there to be more. Hell, he was pretty sure he could put up with his friends if he got to, well, do anything with Mr. Rogers. But, of course, that wasn’t very likely. Seeing as they were teacher and student. Bucky didn’t even know his first name for Christ sake. 

Their coach arrived and Bucky put his thoughts on hold. He was captain of this team, he needed to get his head in the game. And that went really well, he did the trills and did as he was told right up until he looked to the left and saw the man who had all but invaded his thoughts. Mr. Rogers was standing next to Mr. Stark and Mrs. Potts - their principle and Stark’s wife - and they were watching them. 

Mr. Rogers was watching him. 

Thank God for small miracles because only a few moments later and practise was over. The entire team was quick to head to the changing rooms but Bucky hung back. This wasn’t unusual, he was packing up some of the cones they had been using. Sam and Clint left last but they both walked off eventually, leaving him alone of the field. Their coach - Phillips - also left after asking Bucky to lock up. 

“You’re really good.”

Turning, Bucky was greeted with the sight of Mr. Rogers. He was only about a meter away now, watching. “Thanks,” Bucky finally answered. 

“Ton-Mr. Stark, told me that you’re the captain.”

“I am.”

“Well done.”

“Thanks, again.”

“Do you enjoy it then?” Mr Rogers asked.

Throwing the last few cones into the bag, Bucky nodded. “I love it,” He answered He honestly did. Football had always been something that he had enjoyed. And because he was good, like really good, Pierce hadn’t made him quit. Now that he was captain? No way he would be told to leave the team away. It was something Pierce could brag about. It was something Bucky could hang over his ‘step’-brother’s, Brock, head as well. Because was he ever captain, of anything? No.

“I played for a little bit, preferred baseball though.”

“The All-American past time.” 

Mr Rogers laughed again, nodding. He held out his hand, “here, let me take that.”

“I’m alright.”

“What kind of teacher would I be if I didn’t help?”

Bucky shook his head in fond amusement. “Every other teacher in this school. Did you teach at a public school before this?” Mr Rogers looked confused at the subject change but nodded. “Right, well, you may think that this school is better than others because we all pay a whole lot to be here but it’s not. It’s just another status symbol our pa-parents can through around.” 

“You’re so young to have such a cynical outlook.” 

“I’m a realist.” 

“Give me the bag, Bucky, I’ll prove to you that not all teachers are like that.”

He handed over the bag, somewhat hesitant. “Alright.”

\---

Steve was sitting at his desk dreading his and counting down the seconds until his first-period class started. He wanted to see Bucky again because that boy was drop dead gorgeous. Strangely the way he carried himself made it seem like he wasn’t aware of how pretty he was. Sure, he was popular, Steve already knew that, but he didn’t act like some of the other popular kids. 

So, anyway, Steve wanted to see Bucky. Had been dreaming of seeing those pink lips since Bucky had parted yesterday after the equipment was locked away. The conversation had dried up a little, Bucky clearly thinking and Steve not wanting to interrupt. He was more than happy to just watch him. But, that right there was the problem. Bucky was his student. A minor at that. And Steve was his teacher, and a fair bit older than him. It wasn’t right to think like he was thinking. He could lose his teaching license if anyone found out what he was thinking. Teaching had been his life goal since he was a child and he couldn’t imagine his life without it but Jeez Bucky was just so damn pretty. 

It also hadn't skipped Steve's mind that Bucky was so cynical of, what seemed like, life. The way he talked about the school and teachers suggested that he had some bad experiences. And the way he had stutted over 'parents' had made Steve's heart break. This poor boy. Steve wanted to wrap him up in a hug and never let him go. He wanted Bucky to be happy, truly happy. Not some kind of superficial happiness. 

After lunch, the day prior, Steve had seen Bucky walking out of the cafeteria with his friends, and when he laughed the entire hallway - Steve’s entire life - lit up. And the way his pupils had blown up when Steve had winked at him, a decision he regretted and then cherished in the same moment because of the reaction he got. This boy was rapidly becoming something to Steve, and that was terrifying. He couldn’t have a crush on one of his students. He couldn’t. And he didn’t. Yet, at least. 

Rubbing his hands over his face he got back to the work at hand. Grading. That was really what teaching was, just grading. He had just finished one of his classes when the door opened. It wasn’t even near the bell so he wasn’t expecting anyone. Looking up he smiled at the student at the door. He looked better than normal today, tight pants and a dark bomber jacket and - and Steve shouldn’t be thinking that about a student. Something was wrong with him.

\---

Bucky was standing in front of his locker, Wednesday morning, looking over his math homework. He had actually done it. He couldn’t recall a time he had handed in math homework to Mrs Van Dyne. It just didn’t happen and towards the end, she just stopped asking for it. But, he was here today - on time even - with the piece of paper in his hands. He doubted it was any good and was probably not going to impress his teacher but it was a start. 

Taking a deep breath Bucky took the few steps to maths. Like yesterday he was the first one inside. Probably because he was actually early today, for the first time in all of his high school career to be honest. Mr Rogers looked up when Bucky walked in, smiling at his student. In a split second decision, Bucky made his way to his teacher’s desk and handed the paper to him. Honestly? He wasn’t sure how homework was collected. He never paid enough attention in class. 

Mr Rogers, however, took it with a smile. So Bucky hadn’t messed up to bad. “Thank you.”

“It’s probably all wrong but I thought I could, you know, try.”

“That’s all I can ask for,” he answered reading over the work. “This isn’t bad Bucky.”

“Did I get a single question right?” 

“You did,” Mr Rogers pointed to one question. It was the same as the one he had done on the test the day before. The one Mr Rogers had gone over with him. Mr Rogers read through it again before looking up. “Bucky, have you ever thought about tutoring?” 

Bucky shrugged, “I - I got some last year. A college kid. Didn’t help.”

“If you wanted to, and only if you wanted to, I could help you.”

That sounded, in Bucky’s opinion, absolutely amazing. One on one time with the god of a man before him. Time spent with him? Perfect. And, in addition, he might get a better grade and get his ‘step’-dad off his back about it. That was definitely a positive of the whole situation. Mr Rogers looked nervous when Bucky looked at him like he wasn’t sure how this would work out. Was he nervous that Bucky would say yes or no, though? Bucky just went for it, nodding. “I’d like that.”

“Great,” Mr Rogers smiled. All that tension seeping out of his body. Bucky felt very happy that Mr Rogers had been nervous that Bucky would say no. Maybe it meant his teacher wanted to spend a few more minutes. That thought made Bucky feel warm inside - a foreign feeling. “I know how hard the football team trains, so I’m sure you have practised on other days, right?” 

“I do, Monday, Tuesday and Friday. Sometimes on a Saturday.”

“When do you want to do tutoring then?”

Shrugging again, Bucky looked at his intertwined hands, suddenly a little shy. He wasn’t happy that he was shit at math, it was more that he was just resounded to the fact that he was. Talking about it, talking about what he was bad at and knowing that Mr Rogers was going to see just how bad - and not just at Algebra, Bucky could hardly do simple addition - he was at the subject made him feel uneasy. He didn’t want Mr Rogers to think he was a dumbass. “Wednesday or Thursday, or the weekend, or after practise. Whenever.”

“Bucky, I asked when you wanted to. Not when you can.”

“Whenever. This afternoon?”

Mr Rogers smiled at him and Bucky’s heart skipped a beat. “Sounds good. Meet me here after school, alright?”

“Sounds good.” Now all he had to do was get through a day. 6 hours. He could do it. 

\---

Just as the last student left Steve’s door, Bucky walked in. Through the door, Steve could see some of the students that had been with Bucky when he walked out of the cafeteria the other day. As well as Natasha, who waved when she saw him. Steve waved back before collecting the rest of his things. Bucky hovered by the door as his friends filtered off, his cheeks a delicious red instead of his normal milky white. “I’ll be two seconds, I’ve just got to pack up.”

“It’s fine,” Bucky replied. Now fiddling with his jacket sleeves, and by God, he looked adorable. Steve couldn’t look away. 

“I was thinking,” Steve said as he packed up the last papers he needed to grade, “we could go to this little coffee shop. We can stay here if you want, though.”

“Coffee shop, I think this is the latest I’ve ever stayed at school and it’s creeping me out.”

Steve laughed, nodding. “It’s a little out of the way but it’s amazing. Did you drive here?”

“No. Walked.”

“Alright, are you comfortable with me driving you there, then?” 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I - oh.” He shook his head. “I’d rather you drive then I walk.”

Picking up his backpack and a tote bag, Steve smiled at him. “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments! They mean a lot :)


	3. Chapter 3

The two of them walked quietly to the staff car park. Both lost in their own minds. They were walking right beside each other, every so often their arms would brush and both would have to control themselves. It was a difficult walk. Bucky tightened his hand on his bag strap after one such incident. He couldn’t lie, walking next to someone as hot as Mr. Rogers was not an easy task. Especially for Bucky, he was hardly shy in his usual life, very happy to ask for what he wanted outside of his home. 

At least Mr. Rogers looked uncomfortable as well. However, they made it to the car without anything going wrong. The car park was still mostly full so Bucky let Mr. Rogers lead him to his car. “Nice car,” Bucky said once they arrived. It was one of the nicest in the lot. Sleek black and low to the ground. Not something teachers usually drove around, even at their ‘fancy’ private school. 

“Thank you. You can get in the front, I’ll put my bags away,” Mr. Rogers said as he unlocked the car. Bucky did as he was told. Mr. Rogers was in the car, right beside Bucky, only a few minutes after. “Ready?”

“Yeah.”

“How long do you want to spend?” Mr. Rogers asked as he started the car.

Bucky shrugged, “I’m free all night.” Mr. Rogers’ hands tightened around the steering wheel when Bucky spoke, it was a motion that Bucky did not miss. He looked down at his own hands. Maybe that had been a bit too - suggestive. But he really hadn’t meant it to be like that. Truly. But, to be honest, he wasn’t disappointed in the reaction that he got from his teacher. He probably should have been freaked out, hell, any other teacher and he would have been. 

“Good,” Mr. Rogers said, his voice strained compared to before. “We can go through what you know and work on a plan. Don’t worry, I promise I won’t just dump a whole lot of maths on you.”

“That’s what you do every day.”

“That’s my job.”

“I couldn’t do it.”

Mr. Rogers looked at him, “teach or do maths?”

“Both,” Bucky replied sincerely. “How did you experience high school and say ‘yes, I want to go back’? Couldn’t be me.”

“I wanted to make high school a better place.”

“So selfless.”

“I also like maths.”

The car turned down another street and Bucky officially didn’t know where he was. His house was in the other direction, none of his friends lived down here. He had never been this way. It was kind of exciting. Mr. Rogers, when Bucky didn’t reply, turned up the radio. Some sort of classical music started up, Bucky grinned. “Is this the kind of music you like?” He asked, pointing at the radio. 

“It is. From your expression, I can assume you don’t?” 

“Uh - not really?”

“What kind do you listen to then?”

“Uh - classic rock mainly. Some more modern alternative stuff sometimes. I,” Bucky paused and sighed. “Play the piano so I kind of have to listen to some of this kind of music. For when I play.”

Mr. Rogers looked at him, looking impressed. “You play?”

“Pie-My step-dad got me into it when I was younger. Wanted me to be well rounded.”

“Do you like it?”

Before Bucky could answer Mr. Rogers turned into a car park of, what looked to be, a family owned cafe. Mr. Rogers grabbed his bag from the back seat and Bucky gripped his bag, stepping out of the car. Followed closely by his teacher. As they walked towards the, mostly empty, cafe Bucky finally answered. “I didn’t like it, the piano, at first. I was like twelve and wasn’t as good as my step-brother. And I, yeah, but after about a year he dropped it and I continued and I started to enjoy it.”

“Good,” Mr. Rogers said after a moment. “It’s good to have hobbies you enjoy.”

“Do you?”

“I love painting, any art really but painting is my favourite,” Mr. Rogers replied. Bucky smiled at the answer. Even knowing a little bit about the man beside him made his heart soar. It wasn’t that much information but it was enough. He couldn’t help but wish he knew more about him. It didn’t matter how small. Anything was good right now. Mr. Rogers opened the door and let Bucky go in before him. “I’ll have to listen to you play, one day.”

“Only if you let me see your art.”

“Deal,” Mr. Rogers smiled at him. The two of them headed to the counter, both placing their orders. Bucky committed Mr. Rogers’ to memory. Black coffee with one sachet of the brown organic sugar. Bucky’s was a bit more complicated, sue him. He liked the caramel shot in his coffee. Mr. Rogers didn’t say anything but did look rather amused as Bucky ordered. The two also ordered one of the muffins each, apparently, they were the best in state. Bucky couldn’t say no to that. 

The two of them found a table in the corner, windows on both sides. Bucky pulled out his homework and Mr. Rogers pulled out some more paper. “Alright. I was thinking of you last night -” Bucky had to control his runaway thoughts as Steve continued “- and I had some ideas of what we could do to get you back on track. I didn’t realise we’d be tutoring but it can work here as well as in the class. Alright?”

“Yeah. What are you thinking?”

“We need to go over the things that have been taught already in these sessions. I do think that, if you pay attention, you’ll be able to keep up with the class. Maybe I can help with your homework if you’re stuck on a particular day. How does that sound?” 

“Sounds great,” Bucky replied, eating his muffin. He, this time, missed the way Steve’s eyes followed the movement. Bucky moaned, involuntarily, but he very much saw Mr. Rogers’ pupils expand. A fair bit. If Bucky wasn't blushing it would be a miracle. “These muffins,” he said pointing to his plate, “are really good.” It was half a reason and a half a distraction but it worked and Mr. Rogers went back to normal. 

He nodded, “I love this place.”

“Do you live around here?”

 

“Grew up down the road. Came here on Sunday’s after Church with my Mother.”

“That sounds really nice.”

Mr. Rogers nodded. “Some of my favourite memories are here.” Bucky felt blessed that he was here, making new ones. “What about you? Did you grow up in New York?”

“I, no, I moved here when I was eleven. I was born in Romania but lived in Russia.” 

“Wow, that’s different.”

“Yeah, not many others are like that. Shall we start?”

\----

Steve wasn’t an idiot. He knew children. Bucky was deflecting, looking a tad uncomfortable at the thought of continuing that conversation. Clearly, there was something there. Steve nodded, he would never ask Bucky - or any student - to continue a conversation they weren’t happy with. Steve asked Bucky to do some of his homework questions while he watched to see where Bucky went wrong. 

They were able to work like that for about half an hour before Bucky looked like he was about to run. They had done well, though, Steve was much happier knowing where Bucky was going wrong with his math. It would make it easier to help him out. Bucky, when Steve looked up, had his pencil in his mouth. Steve paused, took a breath and tried again. This time the boy was glaring at his paper. Steve smiled to himself, this boy was too cute and tapped on the top of Bucky’s hand with his pencil. “Do you want to take a break?”

“God yes.” 

“Do you have any other homework?”

“I don’t want to take a break from homework to do more homework, Mr. Rogers.”

As soon as Bucky said that - Mr. Rogers - Steve felt every cell in his body burn. Was it arousal? Steve, honestly, couldn’t tell. And that was part of the problem. Steve gripped at his pencil, aware that Bucky was watching him with some intense concentration. Bucky calling Steve that, something he was called on a daily basis, had made Steve feel something he had never felt before. This boy was something else. Controlling himself and trying to ground himself, Steve smiled at his student. “You can call me Steve when we’re here.”

“Steve.”

Okay, no, that was even worse. The inquisitive tone, the small head tilt and the little smile that appeared as he said it made it so, so, much worse than his last name. And so much better at the same time. Steve had never reacted so strongly to someone saying his name before. It wasn’t only physical, however. There was this very sudden and very strong desire to just be with the boy in front of him. It was disconcerting in a good way. 

“My point still stands, Steve, I don’t want to do more homework.”

“How are you doing in your other classes?” Steve asked. 

Bucky shrugged and started doodling in the corner of his paper. “Fine. Mainly A’s.”

“That’s a bit better than fine.”

“I guess,” Bucky smiled at him. “I just struggle at maths. And I’m not great at French.”

“French?”

“I wanted to take Russian but I’m already fluent and P-my dad wanted me to speak more languages. Because what I knew wasn’t enough apparently.” 

Steve took Bucky’s homework and marked it as he spoke. “What languages do you speak then?” 

“English, Russian, Russian Sign Language, Romanian and a little bit of German, enough to get by in Germany anyway. And I’m learning French.” At Steve’s amazed look Bucky suddenly looked bashful, a light blush spreading across his cheeks. It was god damn amazing. Because, yeah, Steve could speak French and English, but this kid was learning his sixth language? It was impressive. “I - I lived in Russia so I had to speak it and I was taught Romanian at the - where I lived, and there was a deaf kid there and then I spent a few months in Germany. It’s not that impressive.”

“It’s amazing, Bucky, why do you sell yourself so short?” Steve asked, watching Bucky closely afterwards. He didn’t mean to pry, he honestly just cared about him. Bucky, honest to god, looked confused at Steve’s comment and that broke Steve’s heart. He didn’t seem to believe Steve either. His confusion was also backed by a bit of anger and hurt. Steve had seen that before when kids were told they weren’t good enough for years and they built up their walls. Bucky was waiting for Steve to take it back. 

After a few moments, Bucky grinned, masking the negative emotions. He did it well, but they were there. “I mean, I’m still terrible at maths.”

“No one’s good at everything.”

“But we try,” Bucky replied and then barked out a laugh. “I didn’t really try in maths to be honest.” 

Steve nodded, “I can see that. But you’re trying now.” He handed Bucky’s homework back to him. “And it’s already working.”

“Jesus, I’ve never gotten such a high mark on a maths thing.”

“Congratulations then.” 

Bucky went to reply, looking bashful when his phone buzzed. It wasn’t the standard ring tone, but some awful sounding beeping. Steve looked at Bucky in confusion while he looked at his phone in clear annoyance. He answered it, holding up two fingers with an apologetic glance. Steve nodded and started doing some work, giving Bucky his privacy. Bucky moved away from the table but was close enough that Steve could still hear him. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop but he could just hear him. 

“What do you want?” His tone was pissed and he stood tense. “I’m out.” Steve was watching him now, subtly but he couldn’t help it. “I don’t know. Why?” Bucky ran his hand through his hair. “I thought he was coming back tomorrow?” Pause. “Okay, well I’m busy.” A pause and then Bucky laughed. “Wasn’t my party and I am pretty sure you told me that I wasn’t allowed to be there.” Another pause. “Fuck off, Brock, fix your own fucking mistakes.” Bucky rolled his eyes. “Fuck you too. Okay, I’m hanging up on you because I don’t like you. I hope you get grounded.”

Steve looked back at his work when Bucky hang up and started walking back over. “I’m sorry. My stepbrother, he’s a piece of work.”

“That sucks.”

“We don’t really talk,” Bucky waved his phone a little. “He threw a party and our step-dad is coming back early so he’s gotta clean up all the evidence.”

“And he wanted your help?” 

Grinning, Bucky nodded. “And he’s not getting it.”

“No?”

“Hell no. So, what now? More maths?” Bucky asked. Steve didn’t comment on the subject change, again, and smiled at him. There were a few pieces of paper on the table that Steve stacked neatly and handed to Bucky, who looked at them distastefully. Steve shrugged, Bucky had asked for maths. Sighing, Bucky picked up his pencil. “More maths, who would have guessed?”

Jesus Christ, this kid was cute. Steve was losing it.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning Steve arrived at school a little earlier than normal. He didn’t choose to, the traffic was light and he was just there. He dropped all of his stuff off in his class and headed to the staff lounge. May as well get some coffee while he was there. When he walked in Tony, Pepper and Bruce looked up. Steve greeted them and grabbed a mug down. “Steve,” Pepper said when he sat down at their table, “how are you settling in?” 

“Good, it’s good. Lovely school.”

Tony laughed, “sure.”

“No, honest, this is a good school.”

“You were out a public school before, right?” Bruce asked, sipping at his tea. Steve nodded to answer. “Yeah, I used to teach public and I do not plan on going back. They stressed me out, man.”

“And these kids don’t?” Tony asked. 

Pepper shook her head, “we have some good kids here.”

“Yeah, but we also have some kids that are, what’s the word? Troubled. Rogers, you’ve got Barnes right?” 

“I do.”

“Hope had some stories about him in maths,” Tony shook his head. “I had him last year, very smart kid but a real troublemaker. Never listened to me once the entire year no matter what I did.” Steve listened to Tony’s description of Bucky and could see where he was coming from but couldn't see it with his Bucky. His Bucky, Jesus he shouldn’t be thinking that. Acting like he had anything with Bucky aside from one tutor lesson. 

Steve shrugged, “he’s alright, he’s trying at least.”

“Better then I get,” Bruce said. “He hands in all the work but I swear he tried to annoy me during the lessons.” Steve thought back to the night before, he had watched Bucky breeze through his homework from his other classes, only struggling slightly with French before figuring it out. It was impressive, to say the least. Hearing the other teachers talk about Bucky being trouble was odd, Steve hadn’t had any trouble with the boy in his class other than his lack of participation. And even then it wasn’t as bad as Steve had seen in the past. 

Wanda, the psych teacher, and Pietro, her brother and the French teacher, came into the room, greeting them all and getting their own drinks. They sat down at the table. After being filled in on what student they were gossiping about, Wanda sighed and nodded sadly. “I have his step-brother, Brock, and he’s even worse. No offence Pepper but I’m surprised he’s still here.” This was something Steve was interested in hearing. 

“Oh, I had him last year,” Pietro said. “He’d do nothing all class time but would get really angry if he failed something. Buy Bucky, I have him this year and he’s the complete opposite for me. Sits there silently and then gets A-’s every single assessment.” 

The conversation shifted after that to testing that was coming up but Steve was still stuck in the past conversation. Anything about Bucky and he was going to grip onto it. He was so young yet so full of mystery. It made sense that he was so cynical if what Steve was thinking was true. Clearly, the boy had home-life issues, not liking his family was one thing but from what Steve had heard his father-figure wasn’t the nicest. Steve really wanted to figure out what was going on. 

“Steve,” Wanda said, bringing him back into the conversation, “you moved house when you came here? Right.”

“I did.”

“Everything going alright? Unpacking and stuff.”

Nodding, Steve took a sip of coffee. “Yeah, I have way to much junk, but I’m getting there. It might be a while before I’m done though.”

“Good to hear. Oh, you know about Friday, right?” Wanda asked, everyone else now joining in their conversation when Steve shook his head. “We’re all going out, you should come with us!”

Tony nodded, pointing at Wanda in agreement. “Smart. We’re going to the bar on the pier, a really nice place.”

“Sounds good. I’ll be there.”

Pepper looked at her watch, “bell goes in five.”

“We should get to class,” Pietro said, standing. “See you guys at lunch.”

Steve, Bruce and Tony walked to their classes together, since they were all in the same area of the school. Some of the kids smiled at them as they did, some of the girls looked Steve over, not that he noticed. As they were walking a kid waved at Tony, who waved back. “Peter Parker,” he said as they continued walking. “Absolute genius that kid, freshman but I'm trying to get Pepper to let him be a senior next year.”

“I have him in third-period maths class,” Steve said. “First day he, awkwardly by the way, explains he’s doing his own work. College level stuff.”

“Love that kid,” Tony muttered. “My prodigy. I’d adopt him if I could.”

“Pepper wouldn’t be too happy,” Bruce replied.

“Yeah, which is why I can’t.” 

They arrived at Steve’s maths class, all three of them stopping outside. The bell would be going soon which would result in the halls being filled with kids but at that moment it wasn’t too bad. There were already a few kids inside. Steve couldn’t see Bucky but he found himself straining to see the back of the classroom. Tony clasped him on the shoulder, “if you need anything don’t hesitate to ask. Just so you know.”

“Thanks, Tony.”

“Listen,” he and Bruce stepped closer to Steve and lowered he lowered his voice. “A lot of these kids have rich and powerful parents so they think they’re untouchable. If you have a problem with that let me know. I know the principle.”

“Thank you, Tony, truly.”

Bruce stepped back, “we should get to class, Tony. Bye, Steve.”

Saying goodbye, Steve stepped back into his room. There were a few kids sitting on desks and chatting, a couple of them nodded when he walked in. And at the back of the class, Bucky was sitting with Natasha. Steve racked his eyes over the boy before he could stop himself. His dark bomber jacket had been replaced, a denim jacket hanging over his shoulders but his arms free, and a dark shirt stretched over his chest. Jesus, this kid was attractive. When Steve walked in Bucky jumped up, saying something to Natasha before heading to the front, where Steve was putting away some of his things. 

“Good morning, Bucky.”

“Morning, sir. I, uh, I wanted to thank you for last night. It was really helpful. Boring but helpful.”

“I’m glad. But I hope you didn’t find it to borning.” 

A little laugh never sounded so good to Steve. “I guess it wasn’t terrible. I’ve never understood so much maths. So, thanks.”

Steve smiled at him, enjoying the sight of a slightly awkward Bucky standing right in front of him. “Would you like to continue, Bucky?” Steve asked. Clearly, Bucky wasn’t expecting that question. He looked confused for a moment before he went even more awkward. Steve felt a little bit bad, but Bucky looked absolutely adorable, fiddling with his sleeves like he had done the night before. “Only if you want to, of course.” 

“Do you think I might actually pass maths?”

“I do. If you try.”

“Then I’d like to continue.”

“Alright, tell me when.”

Bucky stopped fidgeting with his sleeves and looked at Steve, “I can pay you. It’s not really fair that you’re doing this for me.” 

“You don’t have to pay me, Bucky, it’s my job.”

“But you’re not getting paid for it. I can pay, we have enough.”

“Thank you, Bucky, but I really don’t mind,” Steve replied, chuckling a little bit. The bell went as soon as Steve had finished speaking, he smiled at his student. Bucky didn’t look convinced. “Truly, Bucky. I want to help you pass maths, alright? That’s how you can pay me.” Plus, any second spent with this boy was good for Steve, but he couldn’t really say that to the boy. That was something he would keep to himself. 

“This afternoon?” Bucky asked and Steve nodded. “Thank you. I’ll meet you here?”

A steady stream of students were coming in the door now. “Sounds good, Bucky. I’ll try and pack up before you come.”

“Thank you,” Bucky said before going back to Natasha. She said something to him which caused Bucky to blush and Steve really had to try not to stare. 

\---

Bucky was having some pretty strong mixed feelings. Mr. Rogers had agreed to continue their tutoring, which Bucky was happy about. Because as much as he didn’t care whether he passed or not, Pierce did, and if it saved Bucky another three-hour long lecture and punishment then maybe it was worth it. But, on the other, Bucky really didn’t want to give up his time to do maths. Inbetween football, piano, training and studying Bucky rarely got free time and to spend that limited time doing more school? Wasn’t great. 

Of course, there was also the problem of Bucky being pretty attracted to said teacher. That was probably the bigger problem. He enjoyed spending time with the teacher, and really, who didn’t? Their tutoring session had actually been fun and sitting in front of Mr. Rogers for an extra hour and a bit had been great. However, Bucky found himself a little weirded out at the feelings he was having for the man. He didn’t want to encourage them by spending more time with Mr. Rogers. But he wanted to spend time with Mr. Rogers. 

He had never felt like this. Bucky always knew what he wanted and then he went and he got it. No matter it was that he wanted, he’d find a way to get it. But the fact was that Bucky always knew what he wanted. And right now? He had no idea. He also had so many questions that nobody could ever answer. Did he want to spend time with his teacher and risk the feelings growing? What if they didn’t grow and he failed maths for no reason? Is it really that bad if those feelings did develop? 

Shaking his head to bring himself to the present, Bucky thumbed at his phone. The last bell had just gone and he had practically sprinted to Brock’s classroom so he could see his step-brother before going with Mr. Rogers. It didn’t really matter though, seeing as Brock’s last period class was opposite Mr. Rogers classroom. He could already see the man, looking as good as he had done that morning. 

Brock, as normal, was one of the first kids out. He was like Bucky in that regard - last in and first out - and he looked surprised when he saw Bucky standing there. His friends continued walking but stopped at the end of the hall. “What do you want?” 

“I need a favour.”

“What?”

“Can we push back training until six?”

“Why?”

Bucky sighed, couldn’t Brock just say yes? “I have maths tutoring.”

“Is that where you went yesterday?”

“Yeah.”

“What will you do for me if I say yes.”

Grinning, Bucky shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. I won’t tell Pierce about the police coming to the house on Sunday. Now, and I’m not entirely sure because I’ve never had the police called to the house before, but I don’t think he’d take it well.”

“Fuck you, Bucky. Sure, we’ll do it at six.”

“Make it six-thirty actually.”

“Fine,” Brock snapped.

“Thanks, you’re the best,” Bucky said as sweetly as he could, still grinning. Brock shoved past Bucky, knocking their shoulders together as walked past. Bucky rolled his eyes as Sam came to a stop beside him. “Hey.”

Sam looked from Brock’s back to Bucky. “What was that?” 

“Needed a favour.”

“From Brock.”

“Yeah,” out of the corner of his eye Bucky saw Mr. Rogers stand up. “Uh, I’ve got to go.” 

Looking in the same direction, Sam laughed and replied: “enjoy,” before walking off to meet with some other students at the end of the hallway. 

Before Mr. Rogers came out Bucky dialled the number already on the phone. He had known this would work from the moment he thought of it. No way Brock would be okay with Pierce knowing the extent of the party that had been thrown that weekend. Mr. Rogers was just stepping out of the room when the call went through. Bucky sent him an apologetic look before talking into the phone. Steve nodded and started texting on his own phone. “We’re pushing training back ‘till six thirty.” His trainer grumbled a bit, not too much though, and asked if Brock knew. “He knows. We’ll meet you at six thirty. And don’t tell Pierce.”

“You know I have to.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. It’s part of my job.”

“Alright. You can tell him it’s because I’m getting a tutoring lesson in maths if he has any questions tell him to call me.”

His trainer sighed, “I’m not your lackey, Barnes.”

“Yes, you are, it’s part of your job. I’ll see you later. Oh, I broke one of my throwing knives so can you get me some new ones. And I think Brock needs new batons.” 

“You think?”

“There was a party.”

“That boy,” his trainer muttered and Bucky laughed. “Alright. See you at six thirty.”

Bucky hung up the phone. “Sorry about that.”

“You’re fine,” Mr. Rogers replied putting away his own phone. The two of them started walking, heading towards the staff car park. It was a very comfortable walk, the two of them just fit. Bucky couldn’t explain it. They were about halfway there when Mr. Rogers spoke up again, somewhat hesitant. “I don’t mean to pry, and ignore me if you want, but who were you talking to back there?” 

“Oh, mine and Brock’s personal trainer.”

“And you have throwing knives?”

Laughing, Bucky nodded. “Pi-my stepdad wants us to be able to defend ourselves. We have lessons on Monday and Thursday nights. I asked for it to be pushed back.”

“You can just call him by his name, I won’t say anything.”

“Who?”

“Your stepdad.”

They walked in silence for a few beats before Bucky laughed, “I’m really not good at pretending to like him at school. Pierce. That’s his name. Alexander Pierce, secretary of defence and all-around douche.” 

“You don’t like him, do you?”

“Not a single part of me likes him. No.”

“And he’s your step - no, sorry. Nevermind.”

Mr. Rogers pushed open the door and let Bucky go though, Bucky stared at his feet as he tried not to smile at the action. And they say chivalry is dead. Once outside, Bucky answered him. “Uh, he adopted me. He never even met my mother. Neither did I, but like, whatever.”

“Ah, and Brock?”

“Adopted same week as me. I was first. He’s American though, foster kid.” 

“And you two don’t get along either?” Bucky shook his head at Mr. Rogers question. He and Brock had never gotten along. How could they? Pierce had pitted them against each other since the very beginning. They never even stood a chance at being anything other than brother in name and name only. But, to be honest, Bucky didn’t even want to be friends or even friendly with Brock. He was a dick who through around their last name (even though neither of them ever legally changed their name) to get what he wanted. Also, his friends were just annoying. 

They were quiet until they got to Mr. Rogers car, and just like yesterday, Mr. Rogers put his stuff in the back and then they were off.


	5. Chapter 5

The coffee shop was more crowded that afternoon. The two of them stood in line, a couple and a student in front of them. Every so often a name would be called out and a person would grab their coffee. “So,” Bucky started, “what are we doing today?” 

“Maths.”

“Really?”

Mr. Rogers smiled at Bucky, “we’re going to go over your homework from today together, see what you’re struggling with, or not struggling with. Then we’re going to look at some of the things that you were taught earlier in the year, I want to find out which parts you find the hardest so I know where to start. That quiz was good, and I have an idea, but I need more information. Is that okay?” 

“Yeah, of course,” Bucky replied as his phone beeped. He read the message, rolling his eyes as he did so. “Damn it, Clint.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Clint was supposed to do half of our assignment for French but he hasn’t started it yet and it’s due really soon.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Steve replied and Bucky shrugged. A knowing tint in his eyes. “You said you struggled with French but your teacher said you get A-’s. I wouldn’t call that struggling.” 

Bucky grinned at his teacher, “you gossiping about me in the staff room?” After Bucky asked Mr. Rogers looked flustered, like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar. Clearly, he hadn’t thought about what he was actually saying. Bucky thought he looked kind of cute. It didn’t help Bucky’s growing feelings that his teacher had; one, talked about him (even in context) and two, remembered what the other teachers had said about him. Yeah, really didn’t help the funny feeling in Bucky’s stomach he got when he looked at or thought about his maths teacher. Bucky laughed, letting Mr. Rogers know that he was kidding, and to that, his teacher looked a lot more relaxed. “I know they gossip about students. ‘M not surprised they talk about me as well.” 

“It was nothing bad,” Mr. Rogers assured as they moved up a spot in the line.

“Of course not, I’m a gem.”

“Right,” Mr. Rogers scoffed causing Bucky to laugh again. “An absolute gem.” 

The person in front of them finished ordering, leaving it open to them. Bucky went first after Mr. Rogers gestured him to. Again, he got some sugary concoction, a few extra pumps of flavouring so he couldn’t taste the coffee. Mr. Rogers got a black coffee, looking at Bucky’s cup with raised eyebrows. Bucky shrugged and took a sip, smiling at the taste. This place did good coffee. 

They took a different table this time around, this one further back in the cafe and in the middle of the room. Bucky pulled out his homework and at Mr. Rogers’ prompting started it. Bucky wasn’t sure how long it was supposed to take him but he felt like he was going slower than that. Almost half an hour had gone by and he had barely passed the first page. Mr. Rogers helped him when he was really stuck mainly left it up to Bucky to figure it out by himself. 

“I give up,” Bucky said, pushing the paper away from himself and towards Mr. Rogers. “I’m never going to get it.”

Mr. Rogers took the paper, marked it silently, and handed it back. All of the answers were correct. “You have gotten it.”

“Bull.”

“I wouldn’t lie,” Mr. Rogers replied as Bucky went through his homework, eyes wide. “You did good.”

“Oh. Wow.” 

“Did you pay attention in class today?” Mr. Rogers asked Bucky nodded. “There you go, this homework is just more of that. I think you’ve been doubting yourself for so long that you’ve forgotten you’re actually good at this,” Mr. Rogers was smiling at him but Bucky couldn’t make eye contact with his teacher as he spoke. Instead, he stared at his paper and listened to the assessment of him. “Are you happy with that, Bucky?”

Nodding, Bucky looked up, “I am.”

“Good, I’m glad,” Mr. Rogers’ hand moved to cover Bucky’s. It felt like tiny fires were being ignited across Bucky’s hand. In the best way. He didn’t move, for fear of Mr. Rogers taking his hand away. It felt so right to have it there. It felt so good. The only word Bucky could come up with was ‘intense’ but even that wasn’t covering the full range Bucky was feeling as he tried not to look at the hands. Bucky didn’t want it to end, never wanted it to end. He had never felt this way about anything before. Anyone before. “I want you to be happy, Bucky, and proud.”

“Thank you.” Was Bucky thanking him for the kind words or the heavenly contact? Who knew.

“You don’t have to thank me. You never have to.”

Bucky was going to respond when his phone beeped, Pierce's name flashing across the screen. Bucky, alright he really didn’t want to, took his hand out from under Mr. Rogers. The feeling he was left with didn’t feel right at all. The only upside was that Mr. Rogers looked upset at the lack of contact as well. At least Bucky wasn’t alone in his feelings and the fact that Mr. Rogers wanted to be touching Bucky made it that much sweeter. 

With a sigh, Bucky picked up his phone and read the text message. Straight to the point, just like every message his ‘father’ sent him. Pierce would never text to see how Bucky’s day went or to see if he was alright. No, he only got messages when Pierce needed something of his ‘son’. And right now it seemed like Bucky was being asked to come home. Which either meant he was in trouble - Bucky couldn’t remember doing anything but who knew with Pierce - or Pierce was taking him and Brock somewhere. Both options sucked. 

As Bucky put his phone away Mr. Rogers spoke. “Do you need to go home?”

“Yeah, Pierce wants to talk to me.”

“Do you need a ride home?” Mr. Rogers had asked him that yesterday as well. It was very sweet and made Bucky feel warm inside. Mr. Rogers wanted to make sure he was okay, make sure he got home okay and safe. It was a nice feeling to have. But, no one would appreciate Bucky letting Mr. Rogers near their house. It had taken nearly two years for Sam to be allowed over. So, like yesterday, Bucky shook his head with a small smile. He wanted to say yes, wanted to spend some more time with his teacher but it just wasn’t an option that he had. “How are you going to get home?” 

He had also asked that yesterday, Bucky had lied and said a friend was coming to pick him up, but he could hardly say that again. “Pierce has drivers, one of them is going to come here to get me.”

“Alright,” Mr. Rogers said as they started packing up. It didn’t take long for a car to be outside. Bucky said his goodbyes, suddenly very tempted to reach over and hug Mr. Rogers goodbye but he held himself back. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Bucky.”

“See you tomorrow, Steve.”

And while Bucky didn’t see it, Mr. Rogers stood at the door and watched as the car drove away, not moving until he could no longer see it. He didn’t know why he did it, but he did. He stood there and watched Bucky for as long as he could.

\---

Steve was waiting for Bucky on Friday morning. Not that he wanted to admit that, but he was. Every time a student came inside his class he would look up, hoping to see him. No luck. Eventually, Steve had to start the class and pretend he wasn’t upset that Bucky wasn’t sitting at the back with Natasha. The lesson wasn’t too bad a thought, mainly recap of what they had already done and Steve hardly had to explain anything. He walked around the room, handing out sheets, coming to Natasha last. 

“I’ll take Bucky’s,” she said when he handed her one. “He might actually try it this time.”

“Where is he?” Steve asked, handing her another one.

“Whenever Pierce is in town he takes Bucky and Brock to his office for the day. Bucky’s never told us what they do there, though.”

 

“Oh.”

Natasha grinned like she knew something Steve didn’t. It was off-putting. “Don’t worry, he would much rather be here, trust me on that. And Pierce is never in town so it doesn’t happen often.” 

“Alright, well can you ask him to try this and return it on Monday?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you.”

When Steve was back at his desk he did something he had never done before. He got onto his computer and searched James Barnes. He had looked up kids before, to see what they struggled with, but never like this. Shield Prep was a school that went from grade 1 through to graduation, which meant Steve could see all of Bucky’s records. He went to the maths marks, reading through them. Just as he thought, Bucky had been doing just fine until he hit grade ten. That year he went from slightly above average to failing almost every test he did. 

It didn’t sit right with Steve, that kind of thing didn’t just happen. Already feeling guilty, Steve opened Brock Rumlow’s file. He didn’t do as well as Bucky in a lot of his subjects. A few A’s mainly B’s and a handful of C’s. Not enough to be worried about his grades. But in maths, it was all 100’s. And that had only started in grade ten. It clicked when Steve saw that. The extremely competitive nature surrounding him and his adopted-brother had made it so Bucky truly thought his average marks weren’t good enough. 

Steve read over all of it, trying to keep the hurt off his face. Bucky didn’t deserve that. 

For the rest of the day, there was one student on Steve’s thoughts. He was always there, at the back of his mind. As he gave his other lessons and helped his students out he kept thinking about Bucky Barnes. Not that he would admit that to anyone other than himself. It was bad enough to be thinking these things when Bucky was in front of him, but now he was thinking about the boy when Steve hadn’t seen him all day? It was different now. Harder to justify.

The way he was thinking had changed as well. When Bucky was in front of him it was easy too - Lord help him - see how attractive he was. Truly, he was pretty. His hair framed his face and his eyes were so bright. His clothes always looked good, fitted to his body in a model like way. It wasn’t difficult to say that he was good looking. Hell, Steve would be lying if he said anything on the contrary. At least Steve could pretend that he could justify those thoughts. He was being objective, right? It was just that the boy was attractive and Steve wasn’t blind. Maybe he could pretend it was the artist in him, pretend that it was purely an aesthetic thing and nothing more. It wasn’t that bad, right? He could live with that. But this was different. Steve wasn’t just thinking about Bucky’s looks anymore. There was more to it now. 

No, he was thinking about the way that Bucky chewed on the end of his pencil when he had a difficult problem. Or the way his eyes lit up when he smiled. Or the way he mumbled his answers as he wrote them out. Or how he tapped on the table or his leg as if he was playing piano when a song came on. Or when he licked his lips after drinking. Little things that Steve found himself thinking of throughout the day. Things that he probably shouldn’t have noticed in the first place. And how Bucky’s home life was playing out, even though Steve had only seen a tiny bit through a screen. He wanted to wrap Bucky up and never let him go. And that terrified Steve. What the hell was he doing? Thinking about one of his students like that?

After his last class of the day had filtered off, all buzzing for the weekend, Steve packed up his things. He had a few stacks of paper to grade of the next two days and a whole lot of lessons to plan. His weekend was already booked, the life of a teacher. He was just about to leave, preparing to work at home rather than in the class, when Tony and Wanda walked into his room, talking passionately about something. Steve had completely forgotten he had agreed to go out with them. 

“Redundant,” Tony said and Wanda threw her hands up. 

“How?”

“What are you two talking about?” Steve asked.

Tony wrapped his arm around Wanda’s shoulders. “Friendly disagreement on whether humans or robots can be better trusted.” 

“Oh?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Wanda replied. “Still on for tonight?” 

“Yeah, of course.”

“Great,” Wanda said. “I’ll pick you up at seven? Does that work?” 

That gave Steve enough time to get home, get changed and sneak in a little bit of grading so it was “perfect.”


	6. Chapter 6

Bucky arrived home to a phone full of message. Whenever they went to Pierce’s office their phones stayed in their rooms. It was annoying as fuck and very inconvenient but Bucky would rather no phone for the day over no phone. The first message was from Clint, a meme sent in the early hours of the morning after Bucky had left for the office but before school had started. Then a chain of messages from Nat, and an hour later, Sam. A few from some of his football friends and one girl Bucky didn’t give his number to. 

He started with Nat’s, blushing when he read over how Mr. Rogers kept looking to the door and looked disappointed when he walked over to her. Natasha seemed to know how this would make him feel because the last message was the blushing-emoji three times. Bucky replied, arguing weakly that it didn’t affect him, before moving on to Sam. His was more of the same ‘where are you’ followed by ‘Pierce is in town, right?’. Bucky replied, confirming that Sam was right - even though it had been nearly six hours. 

Almost as soon as the message was sent Sam’s photo lit up Bucky’s phone. “Hey,” Bucky answered, sitting at his desk. “What’s up?”

“Dude you missed the best training session.”

“Great.”

“You know how our game for today was postponed?” Sam asked and Bucky replied that he did, of course, he did. “We’re playing them next Friday, at home, six.” 

As soon as Sam was finished talking Bucky was pencilling it onto his calendar. “I won’t be at practice on Monday.”

“Coach is gonna flip.”

“Yeah, Pierce wants me to go to Brock’s wrestling meet after school.”

“Why? He knows you two don’t get along, right?” 

Bucky hummed, “he does. He just doesn’t care. I think he thinks that if we know the other is watching we’re going to do better. Maybe, honestly, that man makes no sense. I’ll tell coach before Monday though. He’ll understand?”

“Will he?”

“Yeah, he knows how crazy he is.”

“Who is?” A voice from behind Bucky sounded. Bucky tried not to curse, his father was standing right behind him. “I need to talk to you, James, hang up.” Nodding but not turning around Bucky told Sam they’d talk soon and hung up. Only then did he turn in his chair to see Pierce sitting on his sofa on the opposite side of the room. “Who were you talking about?”

Placing his phone on silent Bucky put on an innocent face. “A kid on our team, Sam and I don’t like him. He annoys all of us at practice.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Pierce asked. Bucky knew the answer Pierce was looking for. 

“We’re talking to coach about removing him.”

“Good,” Pierce nodded. There was an uneasy silence in the room. Bucky never spoke first, not because he wasn’t allowed to, more that he didn’t want to. No point starting a conversation with the man. “I heard you were getting maths tutoring?”

“I am. My new maths teacher is helping me.”

Pierce looked pleased, but it was always so hard to tell with him. “Is it helping?”

“I’ve only had it twice but so far, yes.”

Humming, Pierce ran his hand over the sofa. “I’m going to get your brother-” Bucky had to hold himself back from arguing that Brock wasn’t his brother “- a tutor for his other classes, his grades aren’t where I need them to be. How are you doing in French?” 

While Pierce didn’t fulfil any other parently duty, he definitely remembered which subject Bucky and Brock struggled and excelled in. “I have an assignment next week. I don’t think I’m going to do badly.” 

“Tell me what you get,” Pierce ordered. Bucky nodded, he’d email Pierce’s assistant, never the man himself. “And I want you to start swimming back up, I’ve enrolled you on Sunday afternoons. You can go after church.”

“Swimming?” Bucky asked, shocked. “Why?”

“It looks good to have two sports, James, I’ve also started Brock back in soccer.” 

“We already have two sports,” Bucky pointed out.

Pierce frowned, “don’t argue with me, James.”

“Sorry.”

“Nevermind, pass maths, James. I am very happy that you’re grades are going to be getting up. If you do pass I’ll send you and your friends on a holiday, alright?” 

Bucky nodded. “I can do that.”

“And start thinking about college please, I’ve emailed you some of the places and courses I think would suit you.”

“Thank you,” Bucky said, trying not to get annoyed. This man controlled every part of Bucky’s life and he would never be free of it. “I’ll look it over.” 

“I think you and Brock should go to the same school,” Pierce said. Of course, he did, why he continued to act like they were a happy family when they were alone, Bucky would never understand. They weren’t, no point in trying to act like it. Sure, when they were out, it was expected. It was easier as well, to fit the picture Pierce presented. But at home, Bucky struggled to not lash out at his ‘family’. “And redecorate your room, it’s too dark. I’ll send someone to help.”

Pierce left the room without another word. Bucky rolled his eyes as Pierce would even notice if Bucky changed his room. The man was never even in the house. Bucky picked up his phone and went to call Sam back, apologies at the tip of his tongue. 

\---

Monday morning saw Bucky, a large cup of coffee hands and sunglasses on his face, in the back of his maths class. Natasha didn’t look much better. He couldn’t wait to see how their other friends looked seeing as he and Nat handled their liquor better than anyone else. The class was started with Mr. Rogers speaking, far too loud, drawing a groan from both Natasha and Bucky. From the amused look on their teacher’s face, it seemed he knew what was going on. 

Bucky hadn’t planned on partying on Sunday. He had gone to church with Pierce and Brock, had gone to lunch with one of Pierce’s colleagues and then had gone to his first swimming practice in three years. The later he didn’t mind. Swimming had been a favourite of his but when his maths grades started slipping Pierce pulled him out. Anyway, after swimming, Sam invited him over and under the guise of studying Bucky was able to go out. Natasha turned up with a bottle of vodka and Clint turned up with another a few minutes later. By the end of the night, both bottles were empty and all of them were fucked up. Bucky had stumbled home sometime around three am. 

Before now he would have stayed home, slept in and ditched school. But his alarm blared at six thirty and he was getting up. Trying to make himself look presentable before going to Mr. Rogers’ class. Was he the reason Bucky was in school right now? Yes, no doubt. Bucky had no other reason in mind when he rolled out of bed. And Mr. Rogers was not disappointing, he was wearing another button up and slacks, both sinfully tailed. Bucky was very happy with the view he got. 

Before long Mr. Rogers was standing in front of them, grinning down at them. “You two alright?”

“Peachy,” Natasha replied. 

“If you’re going to vomit please leave the room first.”

“Gross,” Bucky muttered. 

“It’s happened before.”

That made Bucky’s face scrunch up. “What?” 

“Most teachers have some vomit-related story. Anyway, are you two even going to be able to do this?” Mr. Rogers asked as he handed them a piece of paper each. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“I don’t even know what this says,” Bucky admitted looking at the page. 

Laughing, Mr. Rogers nodded, “alright. Take a period, try not to die.”

“Thank you,” Natasha muttered before placing her head on her arms on the desk. “Thank god.”

“Uh,” Bucky caught Mr. Rogers’ attention before he walked away. “Are we going to continue tutoring?” 

“Do you want to?” Mr. Rogers asked in reply. Bucky nodded. “Yeah, of course. Wednesday and Thursday?”

“If that’s alright,” Bucky replied. As much as he wanted to spend time with the man he didn’t want him to think of Bucky as overbearing or needy or any other bad thing. That was a trippy thought, Bucky had never cared about how teachers perceived him before. Especially to that extent. But, Mr. Rogers smiled, and for the record: Bucky really liked that smile, and confirmed it was fine before leaving to help another student. 

Natasha turned so that she was facing Bucky who had taken up the same position on his desk. “That was the worst flirting I’ve ever seen.”

“What the hell? We weren’t-”

Scoffing, Natasha closed her eyes. “Alright.”

“I’m being serious.”

“You’re an idiot. Anyway, I’m surprised you’re alive, I passed out at midnight and Clint said you two went ‘till two.” 

“Yeah, wasn’t smart.”

“Clint also said you had a twenty-minute rant about Pierce but never said what he did.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, “it wasn’t twenty minutes.”

“What was it about?”

“He’s mapped out my entire life, I have no say. I mean, what happens if I want to go and herd goats in Africa? Huh? He spent all of that dumb lunch talking about what Brock and I would be doing with our lives and that senator ate it up. He even talked about his daughter marrying one of us. I mean, what the fuck? I am not being a part of some weird political arranged marriage.” 

“Do you want to herd goats in Africa?”

“No, but I don’t want to marry what’s her name either.”

Natasha laughed a little. That was something Bucky loved about Nat, she never pitied him and his fucked up family. She had her own problems, she knew what it was like. The two of them were able to complain to each other without the other pitting them or trying to get them to move out. Sometimes others, no matter the intention, couldn’t relate to what they were going through. It was nice to rant to her, to get it all out. It was also nice to laugh a little with her. 

They were silent for the rest of the lesson, both dozing in the back row. Bucky noticed that Mr. Rogers looked at them a couple of times. He let his thoughts run wild on why but at the end of the day it was probably nothing more than a teacherly worry. A few minutes before the bell was set to go, Natasha, sat up, stretching her arms up and groaning. Bucky didn’t move from his spot. He wasn’t sure he could at this point. 

The bell went, ringing around Bucky’s head causing him to wince. “You look like shit,” Nat said as she stood. “You good?” Bucky didn’t answer, he couldn’t even move his mouth. “You shouldn’t be feeling this bad, dude, I think something’s wrong.”

“Nothings-” Bucky slurred before stopping. 

“Yeah, something’s wrong.”

“What’s going on?” Another voice asked and Bucky had to suppress a groan. He did not want Mr. Rogers seeing him like this, thank you very much. “Are you two alright?”

A hand was in Bucky’s hair, although he wanted it to be Mr. Rogers it was much more likely it was Nat. “I don’t know, he’s not well.” 

“‘M fine,” Bucky slurred again. His head felt fuzzy, he wasn’t sure he had even spoken. “Fine.”

“He’s burning up,” Nat said, ignoring Bucky. Mr. Rogers crouched down, now in Bucky’s - who hadn’t moved from the desk - view with a worried look on his face. “This doesn’t seem like a hangover, sir.”

Mr. Rogers nodded, “I think you’re sick.”

“No,” Bucky muttered.

“Sorry, Buck, but I think you are,” Mr. Rogers replied. Even in his fuzzy state, he caught the nickname. He was hot already but he got even hotter when it registered. Hopefully, they’d think it was his fever and not a blush. “You should probably go home. You can’t really stay at school like this, Bucky.”

Natasha, who was still stroking his hair spoke, “I’ll get Clint to drop you home. He’s on study break right now.”

“Don’t do that, Miss. Romanoff.”

“How else is he going to get home?”

“Don’t need to go home.”

Both of them ignored Bucky. Mr. Rogers stood up, moving out of Bucky’s view causing Bucky to pout softly. “I’ll take him home. I’m not teaching this period and I won’t get in trouble for missing class.” 

“Alright,” Natasha replied quickly. “I’ll help you get him to your car if you write me a note for Mr. Stark.”

“Will do,” Mr. Rogers agreed. There was some movement behind him that Bucky was too tired to care about and then Natasha was coaxing him to his feet. Before he was fully up both she and Mr. Rogers had their arms around him, supporting him. If Bucky wasn’t so completely out of it he would have been in heaven at the thought of Mr. Rogers holding him like he was. But, sadly, he hardly even realised what was happening. 

Before Bucky knew it he was in Mr. Rogers’ car. He could see Mr. Rogers writing something in front of the car before handing Nat two slips of paper and making his way to the driver’s seat of his car. The car was started and music came on, classical music like before. Bucky was thankful it wasn't his normal kind of music, at least it didn’t make his head feel even worse. He also knew how to play this piece of the piano, had done it last year. 

They got pretty far into the journey before Bucky became more lucid, “how do you know where I live?” 

“Natasha told me.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Are you alright?” Mr. Rogers asked, looking at Bucky. 

“I’m tired.”

Mr. Rogers nodded, “I can see that.”

“Maybe I should go home.”

“I’m taking you home.”

“Are you going to come inside?”

At that, Mr. Rogers looked confused, flustered and curious all in the same moment. Bucky couldn’t ponder on it for too long, although he wanted to. “No, Bucky,” Mr. Rogers finally answered. “I can’t come inside.” 

“Are you going to get in trouble for bringing me home?”

“No.”

“Good. You’re too pretty to get in trouble.”

“Oh,” Mr. Rogers said as his hands tightened against the steering wheel. 

Bucky watched the movement with narrowed eyes, “did I make you angry?” 

“No, Buck, it’s alright,” Mr. Rogers replied as they pulled up to Bucky’s gate. The security looked at Mr. Rogers with distaste before seeing Bucky and opening the gate so they could drive to the house. Mr. Rogers pulled up right in front of the steps that lead to Bucky’s house and one of the other security guards came out. Mr. Rogers got out of the car and spoke the man. Bucky, on the edge of sleep, tried to pay attention. It didn’t really work.

A few moments later his door was opened and Mr. Rogers was there. “Dave’s gonna help you inside, alright?”

“I want you too. I like you better than Dave, Mr. Rogers.”

“I thought I said you can call me Steve,” Mr. Rogers replied in a teasing tone. 

Smiling, Bucky forgot about why he was upset and undid his seatbelt. It took a few attempts but he got there. Mr. Rogers helped him out of the car before passing him to Dave. “Can I really call you Steve?” Bucky asked.

“If you want to.”

Bucky went to reply, smile still on his face, when he finally passed out in Dave’s arms.


	7. Chapter 7

On both Tuesday and Wednesday mornings, Steve was looking for Bucky. Each morning he’d be watching the door until Natasha came in and would shake her head, letting him know Bucky had already called in sick. He couldn’t blame the boy, he was clearly very unwell when Steve took him home. Some of the things he had said - hell, most of the things - had been stuck in Steve’s head since Dave had carried him off. 

Steve had never been called pretty before. 

Thursday, however, saw Steve walking to his class and being shocked to see Bucky already standing beside his door. Bucky no longer looked halfway to dead, his cheeks had a hint of colour and he was actually standing on his own two feet. He was also nervous if him playing with his hoodie sleeves was anything to go by. When he saw Steve coming down the hallway his cheeks become a beautiful shade of red and his hands stilled, still in front of him and inside the other sleeve. 

“Morning, Buck,” Steve said as he unlocked his classroom. “Feeling better?” 

“Yeah,” Bucky replied with a forced laugh as they walked inside. “Uh, thanks for the help on Monday. Means a lot.”

“Wasn’t a problem. What was wrong? Do you know?”

Bucky nodded, “a doctor came when I was still fucked up when Pierce came home. It was a mix of exhaustion, being hungover but also pretty severe dehydration and a mild case of the flu. I had to have an IV on Monday night it was so bad.”

“That’s awful, are you alright now?”

“Yeah, pretty much back to normal. Coach is pissed that I missed so much training but I’m pretty sure that I would have died if I went.” 

“I’m sure he won’t actually be mad.”

Humming in agreement, Bucky squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. Whatever he was going to say next wasn't something he wanted to be talking about. “Uh, I -” he took a moment “- I wasn’t, like, all there when you drove me home. I was really out of it. I think I may have said some things that I shouldn’t have, I don’t really remember. But if I did then I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” 

Steve smiled at Bucky, shaking his head. “You did nothing wrong, promise. No harm done.”

“Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t lie.”

He looked away and asked, “could you tell me what I said? Please.”

“You asked if you can call me Steve, I said yes by the way, and you asked how I knew where you lived. Miss Romanoff told me.” 

“What else, I know there’s more.”

Steve nodded. “You asked if I could take you inside because you like me more than Dave-”

“-Dave’s a dick-”

“-And I said no. That’s all,” Steve promised. Bucky looked relieved, believing what Steve had said to him. He felt bad for lying but he really didn’t need to put that pressure on Bucky. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. A little white lie for the greater good. 

\---

It was somewhat of a surprise when Bucky walked into his classroom after the last bell went, Steve hadn’t been sure if Bucky would want to continue his tutoring. Bucky, however, got there at the same time as normal and stood by the door waiting for Steve to finish up. It didn’t take long. As the two of them walked side by side to the teachers' car park Bucky spoke up; “uh, do we have to the coffee shop?”

“No, of course not,” Steve replied. “Can I ask why?”

“I’m really tired and I want to go somewhere that my friends aren’t going to be watching me.”

“You’re friends watch us?”

Bucky laughed, shaking his head lightly. “They were talking about coming today at lunch before I arrived. I mean, we can go if you want to -”

“It’s fine, Bucky,” Steve answered. At this answer Bucky looked relieved, Steve had done the right thing there. There was something else he had to say, though. “Bucky, we don’t have to do tutoring today if you don’t want to.”

“What do you mean?”

“You said you were tired?” Steve clarified and Bucky hummed, nodding but looking confused at where Steve was going with this. “Do you want to just go home?” 

“Oh, no. Pierce would flip. Plus I’ve missed so much and I don’t want to fail so I figured I could do a little bit of catch up. My friends are really annoying and I’m too tired to deal with them, not you.”

Steve nodded, and then before he could process what he was saying he said; “we could go to my house.” He stuttered a little bit, eyes wide as he caught up to what he had just said to his student. “I mean if you’re comfortable with that. You don’t have to worry about annoying friends, I guess, but it’s up to you.”

“Steve?” Bucky said and Steve shut up. “I’d like that.”

They arrived at Steve’s car then, he threw his stuff in the back as Bucky slid into the front seat. Something Steve had never realised was how graceful Bucky was. It wasn’t common in teenagers to be so agile and in control of their bodies but Bucky made it look natural. Steve was memorised by it. Trying to get the image out of his head Steve made his way to the front seat. Bucky was on his phone, texting furiously with a frown on his face. When Steve got in Bucky muttered under his breath and closed his phone. 

“Sometimes I hate my friends,” he said as Steve started the car.

“Why?” Steve asked with a chuckle.

“They’re making fun of me, just because I’m trying to further my education.” 

“Is that so?”

Bucky nodded solemnly, the smile on his face giving him away. It was absolutely adorable and Steve didn’t want to look away. However, he was driving and crashing with Bucky in the car wasn’t preferable. Steve’s house wasn’t far from the school, it was closer than the coffee shop anyway. By the time that tiny conversation was over, they were nearly there. Bucky’s phone started going off like crazy, flashing and beeping louder and faster than Steve thought possible. Bucky watched the messages come in with a frown on his face. After a moment he simply switched his phone onto silent and placed it in his bag. 

As they pulled onto Steve’s street Steve spoke, “so I just moved in. I haven’t really finished unpacking or anything. Ignore the boxes.”

“Alright,” Bucky nodded. “When did you move here?”

“Three weeks ago.”

“Oh, you’re really new.”

Steve hummed, “I guess.”

“I’ve lived here since I came to America when I was eleven. It’d be cool to live somewhere else again.” 

“Moving isn’t so fun.”

“Yeah, it isn’t.”

Now, Steve’s house wasn’t all that exciting. It was nothing like Bucky’s. There was no gate surrounding the entire thing, no driveway leading to the front door, no security team and no fountain in a turning bay. It was just a house, close to the one next to it. An average middle-class place, any old teacher could live here. But Steve liked it, liked it a lot. It had been redone but still held the charm of an early 20th-century warehouse. And he had the loft. He parked the car in his park and the two of them got out. 

“This is awesome,” Bucky said when they walked into his apartment. He ran his hand along the brick and Steve watched as he did so. Jesus, even the kid's fingers were attractive. “I love this place.”

“Thank you,” Steve replied. 

Bucky dumped his bag on the dining room table and suddenly Steve was filled with the image of Bucky doing that every afternoon. Coming home with Steve, doing his homework as Steve did his grading. The two of them making dinner and settling down in the living room before heading to bed. It was jarring and Steve wasn’t sure how to proceed with it. The fact that he had the thought wasn’t even the worst part of it all. The fact that he wanted it, so desperately that he didn’t want to come out of the fantasy, was even worse. 

It took a moment for Steve to come out of his mind and offer Bucky a drink, anything to get his mind off it. This, however, didn’t work. As he handed the glass of water over he was brought back to the fantasy. But that was all it was, right? A fantasy. Something he could imagine but never bring to life no matter how much he wanted to. The smile on Bucky’s face as he raced through his biology homework wasn’t helping. 

“This might take me a moment,” Bucky said as Steve sat with his work. “I’ve got three times the amount to do today.”

“It might take you three minutes instead of your average one then.”

“Ha. Ha.”

They sat silently for a bit. It was comfortable, so very comfortable. There were a few too many times that Steve had to forcefully bring himself into the present and out of the fantasy his mind was busy creating. Steve got through grading a class worth of tests before Bucky spoke again. Already on French, something he saved for last, every time. Steve had to keep the smile off his face. His boy was smart. 

His. What the hell was that? Bucky wasn’t his, even if Steve would be happy to say that he was. 

He was saved by Bucky talking. Steve put all of his focus onto the boy sitting in front of him instead of his annoying, runaway thoughts. “You speak French, right? I saw you talking to Mr. Maximoff in the halls after lunch.”

“I do.”

“Do you want to do my homework for me?”

“No, I finished doing homework a few years ago.”

“You’re a teacher.” 

“Teachers don’t do homework, Bucky.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, “I know that, Steve, but you have to look at homework.”

“I guess. But I’m not doing yours. I’m fully aware that you’re actually very good at French.”

Leaning in, Bucky suddenly looked very nervous but also serious. “Can I tell you a secret if you promise not to tell anyone?” Steve nodded at Bucky’s request. “I’m fluent in French, have been since I was a kid. I told Pierce that I only knew a little bit so that I didn’t have to take Chinese instead. I didn’t want to learn a new language.”

“That’s how you’re able to get A-’s.”

“Had to make it seem believable. I’ll get a hundred on the exam.”

Steve laughed before asking, “so why do you take time doing the homework?”

“People are always watching me, I needed to make it believable.” 

“Why didn’t you want to take Chinese?”

“I was stressed enough with school, I wanted a class I knew all the answers to. I’m not naturally a straight A student, ya know? It’s a lot of work and time. Plus I already know six languages, do I really need another one? I figured I didn’t and it wouldn’t hurt anyone, Pierce can still say I know six languages. You have to promise not to tell anyone, alright? I’ve never told anyone that, not even Sam and Nat. Do you promise me, Steve?” 

As if Steve could ever say no to that face. “I promise. Won’t tell a soul.”

“It feels nice to tell someone. It’s probably one of the biggest lies I’ve ever told Pierce. And if he found out I’d be fucked.” At Steve’s face, Bucky back peddled, “oh, no. Not like that, he’d ground me for a month or something. He’s not like that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Bucky replied with a tight-lipped smile. He was lying. “Of course.” 

Steve let it go, “should we start on your math homework?” Bucky nodded and started putting away his other things, pulling out his maths binder. Steve pushed his things to the side so he could focus all his attention on Bucky. It wasn’t a hard thing. Bucky took most of Steve’s attention in general, he usually had to work to focus on other things. This meant that he remembered a lot about Bucky, he also remembered last Thursday. “Don’t you have to be home by six thirty?” 

“Brock’s got the flu, training’s been cancelled.”

“What’s your curfew?”

“When Pierce’s here? Eight. When he’s not here? Don’t have one. And he’s not here right now.” 

“So you don’t have one?” Steve clarified and Bucky nodded. “Alright, so we can go over what you missed from all three days then?”

Just as Steve went to reply, Bucky’s stomach rumbled, Bucky going bright red. Steve laughed a little, “shall we get something to eat before we start?” He stood before Bucky could answer and then, without any thought other than simply: ‘I want to’ he held his hand out for Bucky to take. He didn’t even have a moment to panic because Bucky was slipping his hand into Steve’s with a smile. Steve was definitely smiling as they walked into his kitchen and honestly? He didn’t care if Bucky saw at that moment. He was so happy with the feeling of them holding hands. 

In the kitchen, Steve went to the pantry while Bucky hopped up onto the kitchen bench, his legs swinging below him. When Steve turned to the sight he was sure he was about to faint right there and then. It was more than he could take. Bucky was doing things to him that he had never experienced before. Bucky smiled at him when he saw Steve looking and Steve smiled back. 

His fantasy was coming to life in front of his eyes and if he wasn’t careful he’d end up doing something he regretted.


	8. Chapter 8

“All you have is gross, good for you, food,” Bucky complained for the second time. He had taken up going through Steve’s cupboards after Steve had suggested a fruit salad. “Why do you have no nice food?”

“My food is nice,” Steve argued. He had taken up leaning against the kitchen bench, arms crossed and watching Bucky with a smile. 

“You have no sugar in here. If you say the fruit has sugar I’m gonna scream,” Bucky turned around and pouted, all he wanted was something unhealthy to eat while he struggled through maths. Steve, on the other hand, preferred they ate granola or something equally as gross. Steve had to have something in here. Steve pushed himself off the bench and moved to stand just behind Bucky. He could feel the heat radiating off of Steve’s chest, hitting his back. Bucky relished in the feeling. 

“I think I have popcorn in here,” Steve said before reaching up to the top shelf. Where Bucky couldn’t reach. “Yup, here.”

“Popcorn is for movies,” Bucky said. “Oh, we should watch a movie.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, “I thought we were here to do maths?”

“Can we watch a movie afterwards?” Bucky asked he was pushing the limits. Even he knew that he was. But he couldn’t help it, he wanted to spend more time with Steve and a movie night sounded perfect got that. Hopefully, Steve would agree. At the end of the day, it wasn’t a date or anything, it was just two people watching a movie together. Hopefully sitting close together, sharing a bowl of popcorn. Steve shrugged in response as if to say it was up to Bucky. “I think we should.”

“Alright, then let’s get maths out of the way.” 

The two of them went back to the table, apples in hand because Bucky was actually hungry and didn’t want to wait, and they started maths. Bucky was undoubtedly getting better at the subject. Steve only had to explain a concept once, maybe twice, and Bucky was able to do the vast majority of the questions afterwards. The fact that Steve looked so proud - so happy - was also a factor in how hard Bucky was trying now. 

Their work was done pretty quickly, especially in comparison to the week before, and they were packing everything away. As Bucky repacked his bag Steve went to make the popcorn, only after pointing out where he kept his, rather impressive, collection of DVDs and telling Bucky to choose what he wanted to watch. As the popcorn started to pop Bucky settled on a superhero/action kind of movie that Clint and Sam really liked. Before putting it in the player he snapped a photo and sent it to his group chat that he had been ignoring for the whole afternoon. Basically instantly Sam was calling him. Steve was still in the kitchen so he figured it’d be fine to answer.

“What's up?” 

“Dude, are you watching a movie right now?” 

“Right now I’m talking to you.”

“Bucky, I swear to god I will hit you.”

Laughing, Bucky moved towards the living room. “Yeah, I am about to watch the movie.”

“Nat said you were with Mr. Rogers.”

“I a- when did she say that?”

“You are! Oh my god, are you at his house right now? Because we went to the coffee shop and you weren’t there.” 

From the kitchen, Bucky heard Steve closing the microwave. “Yeah, I am. And I have to go because we’re about to watch a movie.” 

“I can’t believe this. Clint’s gonna freak.”

“Clint freaks about everything.”

“Well, Nat’s gonna freak out about this,” Sam exclaimed. When Steve walked in Bucky said his goodbyes to Sam and went to hang up. Because the universe hated him, Sam’s voice echoed around him and Steve, yelling out: “Use protection!” 

Bucky silenced his phone again, cheeks burning red. Steve looked like he was trying not to laugh. “It is a good message.”

“Please don’t.”

“Did you choose a movie?” Steve asked, changing the subject much to Bucky’s relief. Bucky held up the DVD so Steve could see the cover. “Haven’t seen it, Tony, uh, Mr. Stark said that it was good though.”

“Is this alright?”

“If you’re happy.” They agreed it was good and then the two of them worked in tandem to set everything up. Steve dimmed all the lights and closed two curtains that were glaring on the screen. Bucky turned on the TV and set up the movie, getting it to the main screen just as Steve made his way to Bucky’s side. Steve moved a throw pillow - it made Bucky really happy that Steve was the kind of person who had throw pillows - and they were almost ready. Only one problem. It was freezing. Throughout the afternoon it had been fine, nothing to complain about, but very quickly the heat had gone. Leaving a chilly room that Bucky didn’t like. 

When everything was done Bucky cleared his throat, he didn’t want to ask and sound bratty but he was really cold and he hated the cold, “uh, can we turn on the heat or something?” 

“The heat doesn’t work yet, there’s something wrong with the electricity in this apartment and they haven’t fixed it as of yet,” Steve explained. “I can get you a jumper?” 

“Yeah, please, this jacket looks good but serves no purpose,” Bucky said. Laughing, Steve went through a door that Bucky hadn’t gone through yet. A few moments later he came back with a new sweater on and a jumper and a blanket in hand. He handed the jumper to Bucky who thanked him before pulling it on. Steve placed the blanket on the sofa, where they were going to be sitting. Bucky looked at Steve and asked, “ready?” 

Sue him, Bucky made sure that he sat a little closer to Steve then he probably should have, that was normal or right. But Bucky wasn’t thinking about that. He was thinking about how good it had felt when Steve was right behind him. Being right beside him was bound to be better, right? Common sense. Steve, much to Bucky’s delight, didn’t move away or even look uncomfortable at their closeness. 

In fact, it was seeming to be the opposite. Steve looked happy when Bucky sat down so close their sides weren’t touching by only an inch. He looked even happier when Bucky pulled the blanket over himself before offering Steve some as well. Before the open credits could even start they were both under the blankets, trying to pretend that it didn’t mean anything that it felt so right to be like that. 

The movie, for the most part, was a generic superhero/action flick. But it was fun and both Bucky and Steve had a good time watching it. However, when it got the end the mother of the main character died. Bucky thought it was sad, the acting was amazing and incredibly moving but he didn’t think much of it until he felt Steve stiffen and out of the corner of his eye saw Steve wipe at his face. 

“Are you alright?” Bucky asked, his full attention going to Steve. “What’s wrong.”

Steve smiled a pained smile at Bucky, shaking his head. “Nothing, sorry.”

“Something’s wrong. You can tell me if you want.”

“My mother died when I was younger. Guess it just caught me off guard.”

“I’m so sorry, Steve.”

Shrugging, Steve shifted a little closer to Bucky. Bucky didn’t even look to see how they were now touching, pressed up against each other. He kept his eyes on Steve’s face. He felt it though. “Don’t worry about me, Bucky, it’s alright.”

“You’re upset, I want to make you feel better,” Bucky replied placing his hand over Steve’s.

“You’re so sweet. It’s alright, truly, I’m not actually upset.”

“Do you want to talk about her?”

His pained smile turned a little happier, Bucky considered it a win. “Sarah Rogers. She was the nicest person I’ve ever meet. Ever. She died when I was eighteen, we knew it was coming. She was sick for a long time. But it was still hard, still hurt. She never stopped believing in me, always told me I could be anything and everything I wanted to be so long as I never stopped fighting.” 

“She sounds wonderful.”

“She would have loved you. I can tell.”

Bucky smiled at that. “If you’re sad you can think of those eighteen years, right? All the happy memories of the two of you?”

Steve nodded, “that is what I try to do. You’re too wise, Mr. Barnes.” At the name, Bucky scrunched up his nose causing Steve to laugh. “What about you? Do you remember your mother?” 

“Nope. She died during childbirth, my father was already dead.”

“I’m so sorry, Buck.”

“I mean, I can’t miss what I never had. I was given to an orphanage in Romania until I was one and then I was moved to Russia when my Romanian orphanage was closed down. I went to Germany for five months when I was seven but aside from that I stayed in Russia. Until I was eleven when Pierce came to get me to take me back to America.”

Very suddenly, Steve started running his hand through Bucky’s hair. Bucky didn’t freeze, it was more like he relaxed until he stopped moving. It felt amazing. It was such a simple thing but it ended up meaning so much more to Bucky. “I’m really sorry, Bucky, I wish you could have met your parents.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said softly. “But, I like how my life turned out.”

“That’s really good.”

“And as much as I hate him, Pierce offered me a pretty good life. The kids in the orphanage would have killed for what I got. Look at this, I go to a fancy private school now. The nuns at the orphanage taught me for elementary school.” 

Steve stopped moving his hand and Bucky physically whined, surprising the both of them. At that Steve continued to run his hand through Bucky’s hair. “I feel like I should tell you something deep, so we’re equal.”

“You don’t have to. It’s not a contest.”

“My dad was a real mean drunk, he died when I was nine but I have no nice memories of him. I didn’t even cry when he died, I was happy.”

“Oh, that’s awful. I’m sorry. You didn’t have to tell me.”

“I probably shouldn’t have,” Steve agreed. “It’s not fair that I’m unloading my personal life onto my student. Don’t worry about it, Buck, forgot about it. Truly, you don’t need to think about it.”

Bucky frowned at Steve, “I - I’m not just a student.”

“I guess you’re right,” Steve conceded. “But my point stands. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“What if I want to? Huh? What then?” Bucky knew he sounded childish, and he knew he should dial it back a bit so that he didn’t sound so childish, but he was upset. He and Steve had moved past a student/teacher type relationship already. Steve was running his hand through Bucky’s hair for crying out loud. That wasn’t normal. Bucky needed Steve to see that, and he needed Steve to see what he was very happy with what they had. The only way to make it better would be to progress it further. He needed Steve to see that.

“What then?” Steve agreed. “A pretty loaded question, Bucky.” 

They were silent for some time, each thinking. Bucky couldn’t stop thinking of admitting that he wanted something. He wanted to tell Steve that he wanted to progress the relationship, that he wanted to kiss the man and say His Steve and have more movie dates where they cuddled on the sofa until they were falling asleep. He wanted them to be happy together and that he wasn’t scared to take that leap. But how do you tell your teacher that? How do you tell someone ten years older than you that you want to be with them?

“Bucky,” Steve said after some time. “What are you doing on Saturday night?”

“Nothing.”

“Why don’t you come over for dinner, we can work on your maths.”

“I don’t want to work on maths.”

“I know,” Steve replied. And then, before Bucky could process what was happening, he was leaning down and kissing Bucky on the forehead. The grin didn’t leave Bucky’s face for quite some time.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally

Steve found himself actively waiting for Saturday night. He couldn’t remember a time he was this excited for something before. That made him even more excited. He knew he needed to calm himself down, who knew what Bucky thought was going on? And if Bucky arrived and realised that this was something he wanted then Steve needed to be able to school his face instantly. He couldn't let Bucky see how he truly felt in that situation, it simply wasn’t fair on the younger man. 

Every minute for the next few days seemed to drag on, torturing Steve as he waited for his dinner with Bucky. The only relief from feeling like that was the fact that Bucky was coming over again, that they would be seeing each other again. 

That Friday, Steve was packing up later than normal. He stayed behind to catch up on some grading. His house seemed like it was mockingly empty now. Had done since Bucky had left on Thursday night. Staying in the class later was something he could to take away that lonely feeling that he hated. He hardly ever stayed later, preferring to work in his house, but Bucky was changing a whole lot. Bucky was on Steve’s mind constantly, influencing him even when Bucky wasn’t there. Steve wouldn’t have changed it to be any other way. Bucky was absolutely worth it. 

And then, finally, it was Saturday. It had only been two days but the days had dragged on to the point of insanity. He and Bucky hadn’t talked much throughout the rest of the week as well, their interactions were much more student-teacher than the two of them had been on Thursday night. Steve figured he should be grateful for that, at least he didn’t have anxiety through Friday about someone figuring it out. He wasn’t too worried about Bucky’s friends, they seemed like they were simply teasing Bucky. 

Waking up at six thirty Steve needed to figure out how to spend his day. If Friday had been bad, Saturday was hell. Working out, grading, planning, cleaning and cooking only filled half the day and Steve was left with a handful of hours where he could only sit and wait, thinking about what was happening that night. Hundreds of scenarios ran through his head through the day. Some ending with Steve getting hit, with Steve getting kissed, with Bucky running away and with Bucky staying in Steve’s arms. It was jaring how quickly Steve changed the outcome of the night. 

They had agreed on six and Steve was starting to regret not making it earlier. Why the hell did he think twelve hours would be okay? Twelve long hours of run away thoughts and near panic attacks. What the hell was happening to him? Steve had always been a romantic, his past girlfriends could attest to that. He had always wanted to find the one. Wanted that picture perfect romance. 

And here was, honestly considering the idea that one of his students could be that person for him. A boy ten years younger than him that he had met only a few weeks ago. It was absolutely ridiculous that Steve was even in this scenario in the first place. But, Steve couldn’t help it. From the moment Bucky had walked in Steve had been infatuated with the boy. 

Just before three o’clock, Steve’s phone rang. Sharon’s name flashed across the screen and Steve smiled. He had gone to teachers college with Sharon, they had been extremely close for those few years. Sharon had been the one to introduce Steve to Peggy - her cousin - and that had gone on to be Steve’s longest relationship to date. He and Peggy were still in contact as well, parting ways as friends after two years. Steve and Sharon had gone their separate ways after graduation but still kept in contact as much as possible. Steve answered his phone, happy for the distraction and happy to talk to his old friend. “Sharon.”

“Steve, haven’t heard your voice in a while.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“Don’t be, new school and all. How’s private school treating you?”

Steve laughed, Sharon had taught at a public school for a year before finding a private school to work at. She had always told him it was better on her side but he had always been happy at his old school. But, Shield Prep was amazing. “It’s great,” he admitted. 

“I know. Now, tell me, is anything else happening in your life?”

“Not really,” Steve lied keeping his tone jovial and light. 

Sharon scoffed and Steve knew it hadn’t worked. “Alright, don’t tell me. I’m actually calling because I have news of my own.”

“Oh yeah?” 

“I’m moving schools at the end of the school year, I’m coming to you.” 

“To Shield Prep?”

She made a disappointed noise, “not quite. There’s a private school about twenty minutes from you, I’m going there. But I am moving to the same area as you.” 

“That’s amazing!”

“We can get up to all our old tricks.”

Laughing, Steve shook his head even though she couldn’t see him. “I don’t think I’m up to all that anymore.”

“Oh, you’re not that old.”

“Sure, but we were insane.”

“That we were. Okay, I’ve got to go. I just wanted to tell you that, so I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon.”

The clock struck three. Three more hours. He could do this. 

\---

Bucky was staring at his closet with a frown on his face. Pierce had always let him buy whatever he wanted so long as he wasn’t being punished. This had lead to Bucky having a pretty sizable closet. But he had nothing to wear. He also didn’t know what kind of thing to wear. Did he dress up or go casual? What does one wear to his teacher’s house for a dinner date and a serious talk? Usually, he’d call Nat and Sam, they both had a nice taste, for a second opinion and they’d come over - with Clint, who had no taste - and the four of them would work it out, but that wasn’t an option this time. 

“You’ve been standing there for like half an hour. Contemplating going back in?” 

“Shut up Brock. Thought you were on bed rest.” 

“Yeah, until tonight. Why are you staring at your closet?”

Shrugging, Bucky turned to face the other boy who was leaning on Bucky’s doorpost. “I’m going out, what do you think?” 

“Who are you going out with?”

“Why the fuck do you care?”

Brock walked into the room and sat on the edge of Bucky’s bed. “Wanted to see who you were going out with because I know Sam is going to Riley’s party tonight. Natasha and Clint will probably go as well.” 

“I’m going with them.”

“No you’re not, you’d know what to wear. You’re going on a date.”

“It’s not a date, it’s a pre-date. To see if we should date,” Bucky replied. It wasn’t that much of a lie. “That’s why I’ve been staring at my closet.”

“With who?”

Bucky laughed, now leaning against his closet and facing his brother. “Now that is for me to know.” 

“Do your friends know?”

“No.”

“I always thought you’d end up with Sam if I’m being honest.”

“He’s probably going to start dating Riley soon. We can all see it, even though they can’t.” 

Nodding, Brock stood. “I heard about that yesterday. I’ll see you tomorrow, I’m going to Riley’s. Oh, and Alex’s is going to be here for Church.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah, he’s meeting us there,” Brock explained. Apparently, Bucky made a face because Brock nodded with a small sigh. Brock liked Pierce more than Bucky, always had, but neither liked him that much. Especially when the man had been around a whole lot. Which was what was happening now. For the last month and a bit, Pierce had been with them off and on. It was exhausting. The silver lining was that this didn't happen often and within the next few weeks, Peirce would leave and forget about his sons for a few weeks. “You should wear that leather jacket you got last week.”

Bucky looked at it, hanging over his chair. It was a nice jacket. “See you tomorrow, Brock.”

It was nearly five thirty, which meant Bucky only had a few minutes to decide. Finally, he decided; black skinny jeans, black top and the jacket. It was dressy enough but also casual so he wasn’t stupidly overdressed - and Bucky knew he was over thinking. Every little decision he made came with a few minutes of panic and consideration. He needed to calm down before he went over. 

He knew what he wanted the outcome of the evening to be. He had no idea what the outcome would be. Would Steve want the same things as he did? Was this night going to end with Bucky transferred to another teacher’s class? That would suck. What would be worse would be Bucky expelled. Bucky wasn’t even sure how he was supposed to act. A part of him wanted to pretend he was more mature that he was, act older. But he figured that would backfire and make him look younger than he actually was. He figured, after debating with himself nearly all of Saturday, that not acting would be the best bet. If he couldn’t be himself around someone then he couldn’t date them. 

At five thirty Bucky got in his car and started the drive to Steve’s. His house wasn’t far from Bucky’s but it wasn’t close either. It was on the other side of the school but really it wouldn’t take half an hour to drive there. Bucky would much rather be early than later right now. He also wanted to get something to bring, but again, what the hell was he supposed to bring to this? It wasn’t like he could go and get some alcohol like he would when he was going to a party. 

At five fifty Bucky arrived. He sat in his parked car and stared up at the building. Steve was in there. All Bucky had to do was get out of his car and walk to the elevator. It was so simple yet he wasn’t doing it. Why wasn’t he doing it? Bucky knew that answer. He was scared of what was waiting for him up there. Scared this night would go horribly wrong and it would all be his fault and Steve would hate him and and and and.

And Steve wouldn’t. 

Steve was the best person Bucky had ever meet. Gentle, patient, caring. All the good things a person could be. Steve had it all. No matter what happened when Bucky went upstairs Steve would still be kind, he’d still be Steve. Bucky wasn’t going to kicked out of the house and Mrs Potts wouldn’t find out what happened. Steve wasn’t like that. Bucky tapped his fingers against his knee, settling his nerves. It was going to be okay, no matter what happened. 

Five fifty-five and Bucky was getting out of the car. He pulled the jacket closer around him and started for the door. Bucky pressed the buzzer to be let in and with no words spoken the door unlocked and Bucky was able to enter. He didn’t let go of his grip on his jacket the entire way to Steve’s floor. He knocked and stood there, waiting. This was crazy, he was crazy, he should turn around and go home, pretend this never happened. 

Expect a moment latter Steve opened the door, all smiles and warmth. 

\---

At five thirty Steve was undoubtedly pacing. Bucky on his mind. Their food was ready to cook, Steve wanted to be ready, and the entire house was spotless, Steve was restless. It was all set up for Bucky’s arrival in - now - twenty-nine minutes. Steve put on some music, the house was to quiet for his liking. Soft jazz - the kind Bucky had teased him about - flittered out, calming Steve a fraction. Not enough for Steve to not be tense.

Because he was tense. He was stressed about was about to happen. He had no idea how this would go. All he wanted was Bucky to be happy and comfortable. That’s all. Steve’s personal happiness fell to the wayside when he thought about Bucky and what Bucky wanted. Who actually cared if Steve wanted the night to go a certain way if Bucky wanted something different? A little part of Steve answered that Bucky himself cared. That had been shown Thursday night when the boy had gotten upset at Steve’s sadness. That moment had been eye-opening to Steve. Eye-opening and terrifying. There was a lot of that going around. 

Five forty-five and Steve checked on everything. He needed to use his hands and move so that he wasn’t just sitting there, stewing in his own thoughts. At five fifty the music was changed to something a bit more modern. It was still jazz but Sharon had brought it for him a year or two ago and he hadn’t tried it out yet. Had never thought it was his type. Apparently, he had been wrong seeing as he actually enjoyed it. It was at five fifty-six that his buzzer rang and Steve unlocked the door. 

Nerves took over him again as he paced around his apartment, waiting for Bucky to knock on the door. A million things going through his mind, how this could be a setup. The police or Pepper or Bucky’s friends could be standing there instead of the one person Steve wanted to see more than anything else. After a few minutes, there was a knock on the door and Steve walked over.

Whatever happened, happened. He opened the door, smiling brightly the second he saw Bucky standing there.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of their pre-date!

“Hi, Buck,” Steve finally said after what seemed like a lifetime of staring at the boy in his doorframe. 

“Hi, Steve.”

“Hi.”

At this, Bucky’s face split into a giant grin as he breathed a sigh of relief. At Steve’s confused look Bucky shrugged, “you’re nervous as well.”

“Of course I am,” Steve said, smiling when Bucky looked even more relaxed. “Do you want to come in?”

Steve stepped back, allowing Bucky to walk in. Steve had seen Bucky in his house before, but there was something different this time as he watched Bucky hang up his jacket on the coat hook. He didn’t want it to end. Whatever it was. Bucky turned back around so he was facing Steve, smiling widely at him. Really Steve should have been ending this whole thing, letting Bucky down easy and stopping this - this - this relationship. 

But he wasn’t going to. That fact was cemented when Bucky stepped closer and wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist, resting his head on Steve’s chest with a happy little sigh. It was heaven and hell. Steve returned the favour, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s shoulders and rubbing his back softly. The amount of happiness Steve felt was foreign to him. This had never happened. His reactions had never been so intense before. It was addictive. He was an addict and Bucky his drug. 

“I’m really glad we’re doing this,” Bucky said when he stepped back.

“So am I.”

“You don’t, like, regret inviting me over?” 

“No, I don’t. Promise.”

Bucky smiled, the answer clearly pleasing him, before moving further into the apartment. The casualness of it all made Steve ache for more. He followed. Bucky was in the living room, looking at a picture Steve had done years ago but only hung up that morning. When Bucky smiled softly over his shoulder at Steve it felt like everything good had just been chucked at him. He was falling hard. Hell, he had already fallen. 

“You drew this,” Bucky said. It wasn’t a question but before Steve could answer Bucky was continuing. “I’ve seen your art and now you have to listen to me play.”

“I don’t have a piano.”

“You’ll have to come to a recital,” Bucky said easily. Like he had been expecting that. “Oh, I’m sorry for turning up empty-handed. Nat’s out and she’s the one that gets us our - are you alright with underage drinking?”

“I did it.”

Nodding, Bucky continued. “She gets us our drinks.”

“You didn’t need to bring anything,” Steve replied honestly. He hardly expected the kid to in the first place. Steve was going to regret what he was about to say but it needed to be said and it needed to come out before the night went on. He had to start the conversation now or the night could turn for the worse within a moment. Even though he didn’t really want to ruin the casual environment they had going on. “Bucky? What do you want from tonight?”

It took a moment for Bucky to answer. Before he did he moved so he was sitting on the sofa, Steve followed, sitting so they weren’t touching. Bucky looked to the space between them with a frown. Bucky didn’t look happy to be answering the question. Steve reached out and took his hand in his own and Bucky looked a hell of a lot more relaxed at the gestured. When he did speak was hesitant but still confident. “I want to. I want us to be something. Yeah, that’s what I want. And I want - what do you want?”

“Whatever you want.”

“That’s not a real answer.”

Steve smiled softly. His Bucky was the sweetest person Steve had ever meet. “I want us to be something as well, Buck.”

“You do?” Bucky asked, the hesitance shredding off him. When Steve nodded Bucky suddenly looked very, very, confident. Sitting up straighter, the grin on his face no longer small and his eyes were gleaming. This was the Bucky that Steve liked to see. Bucky gripped Steve’s hand harder. “Good.”

“We can deal with that later,” Steve said. “I want to know what happened at the game last night?” 

Bucky absolutely lit up, “we won. By, like, a whole lot. 40-4.”

“Wow.”

“I know! I’m so happy, ‘cause they're our biggest rival and it’s great for the teams moral to have that win. Phillips actually smiled, which never happens.” 

“Well done, Bucky.”

“It was my team.”

Steve nodded but disagreed lightly, “you’re the captain, Buck, that’s gotta stand for something.” At Bucky’s look, Steve decided to fill the boy’s world with compliments. He looked so shocked, almost confused. It broke Steve’s heart to see that look on Bucky, he deserved every single compliment that Steve could give him and then some. If Steve had to use every breath to tell Bucky he deserved the world then he would. 

“Thank you.”

“Just saying the truth. Do you want to have dinner now?” Steve asked and Bucky nodded, the two of them moving towards the kitchen. Like before Bucky jumped up so he was sitting on the kitchen bench while Steve prepared the final bits of dinner. And like last time, Steve faltered at the sight. Bucky didn’t seem to notice. They stayed in silence for a few moments, Bucky happily watching Steve and Steve happily being watched by Bucky. That quietness was soon gone, however, when Bucky’s phone started beeping. Steve looked over to see Bucky looking down at his phone that was producing loud music and yelling. “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah,” Bucky said, looking up and smiling. “My friends are at a party and they’re sending me snapchats.”

Suddenly Steve felt very, very, wrong. Bucky’s friends were out - at a high school party no less - and Bucky was here. Not with his friends. With Steve, someone ten years his senior and his teacher. It felt very real. The fantasy had crashed and Steve was left with the facts of what was happening. Steve had his doubts before but he was able to mask them, pretend they weren’t there. These weren’t going away as easily. 

If Bucky noticed Steve panicking in front of the oven he didn’t say anything. “They think I’m still recovering so I can’t go.” 

Steve felt sick. Sick to the stomach. Bucky was lying to his friends to be here. Because no one could know that Bucky was here. Steve had invited a seventeen-year-old into his house on a date. To talk about their relationship. What the hell was he doing? Inviting his student to dinner? At his house? None of this was okay. Yeah, Steve felt really sick now. He needed to fix this. 

Turning, he was surprised to see Bucky looking at him with worry shining in his eyes. “What’s wrong, Steve?” 

“I, you should be out with your friends.”

“I’d rather be here.”

Why was Bucky making this so hard for him? Well, it was hardly his fault. Everything he did Steve found absolutely adorable. It was hard for Bucky to not be cute (and hot, let’s be real here). Steve forced a smile onto his face, trying to quell the worry and concern that Bucky had on his face. None of this was Bucky’s fault. It took Steve a moment to speak. “You wouldn’t rather be with your friends?” 

“No? What’s wrong? Are - oh. You’re regretting inviting me here.” 

It broke Steve’s heart to see the look on Bucky’s face. He didn’t just look sad, or even angry, but resigned. Like he had suspected that is was coming the entire time. Steve had to hold back his denial. Because he didn’t regret it. Not really. He wanted Bucky here but he knew Bucky shouldn’t be here. He said as such, out loud, not able to make eye contact with the boy as he did so.

“No,” Bucky snapped suddenly. “No. You don’t get to decide that.” 

“What do you mean?”

“I want to be here, you want me here, why should I have to go?” 

“It’s complicated, Buck.”

Bucky slid off the bench and stepped forward so he was chest to chest with Steve, looking at him with fury in his eyes. “You don’t get to decide that for the both of us.”

“Please, Buck, you have to look at this logically.”

“Relationships aren’t meant to be logical. We both want this. No one needs to know what we’re doing if that’s what you’re worried about,” Bucky replied stubbornly. Steve ran his thumb under Bucky’s eye, willing the tears there not to fall. He didn’t know how he would handle that. “This isn’t something you can decide all on your own. We need to talk about it together. That’s logical” 

“Why are you being more logical than me?”

“Because I’m not an idiot.”

“Please,” Steve scoffed and Bucky grinned. That sight alone was reason enough to do as Bucky said. 

Steve went back to cooking. He placed the tray in the oven before turning back to look at Bucky, who had gone back to sitting on the bench. God, he was so beautiful. He almost looked regal, leaning back on his hands as he watched Steve. And that smile should have been illegal. Steve smiled at him. “Do you want a drink?”

“Are you offering me something alcoholic?”

“No. I don’t drink.”

“You don’t?”

“Haven’t since I started working out,” Steve admitted. Bucky almost looked offended. “I take it you drink?”

Bucky shrugged as best he could sense he was leaning on his arms. “Not all the time. But, yeah. Have done for a while.”

“Illegal,” Steve said and Bucky grinned. Steve faltered, he wasn’t much better. Only it wasn’t underage drinking that he was partaking in. 

\---

Bucky was cuddling with Steve. Cuddling. The two of them had finished dinner, their relationship not coming up, and had moved to the living room. Where Steve had sat down and Bucky had cuddled into his side. So, Bucky as cuddling with Steve. It was amazing. He would give anything for this to be his life. “We should probably talk now,” he said after a few moments.

Humming, Steve answered; “I want you to be happy, Buck.”

“You’re so sweet, Stevie,” the nickname slipped out but Steve didn’t seem to mind. He was smiling down at Bucky and had started playing with his hair. Bucky smiled softly and leant into the touch. “I think we’re going to be happy.”

“You sound like a fortune cookie.”

 

It was easier to stick his tongue out then respond. “I’m serious.”

“And I think you’re right.”

“Good,” Bucky sighed lightly. “Does this mean I can kiss you.”

Steve lent forward and pressed a kiss to Bucky’s forehead. It was absolutely amazing but absolutely the wrong kind of kiss. When Steve pulled back he chuckled lightly at Bucky’s pout. “We have all the time in the world, Buck, no need to rush.”

“I mean, I want to.”

“It’ll be worth the wait then. What do you want to do for the rest of the night?” 

“I thought it was clear what I wanted to do.”

“We could do a movie,” Steve suggested. “I’m not sure how young people spend their time on dates.”

Bucky scoffed, “you’re not old and they spend their time doing what I want to do.”

“I’m probably too old for you.”

“We already talked about this, Steve. Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” 

Scoffing again, Bucky shook his head. “You’re not, don’t act like you are. I want this, Steve. I can practically hear you hating yourself for wanting it too.” 

“You’re too smart for your age.”

“Trauma and a father figure who sees second place as an absolute failure,” Bucky replied quickly and easily. Ignoring Steve’s somewhat concerned look. “We can talk about it if you want to.”

“Talk about what?” 

“Your feelings,” Bucky replied. “Like how you’re concerned about this.”

Steve shifted ever so closer to Bucky. But he felt it and smiled. “I’m worried about all of this, but I still want it.”

“It’s normal to be worried. Especially for this. But are you happy? With me.”

“I am.”

Bucky kissed the corner of Steve’s mouth. Quick and sweet and perfect. “Good. Then we can be happy together.”


	11. Chapter 11

“Oh my god!” Bucky cried as he tried not to throw his phone. He had put it on silent before they started the movie and in the last minute, it hadn’t stopped vibrating. Steve just laughed and paused the movie as Bucky pulled it out from his pocket. His friends had been sending him message after message in their group chat. None of it said his name, he figured it wasn’t that important and turned it off. His friends could wait. Cuddling with Steve was the priority here. Acting on that, Bucky placed his phone on the table and pushed himself further into Steve’s side. 

“Anything important?”

Bucky scoffed lightly and shook his head. “They’re drunk. I think Clint fell into a pool.”

“Ah, to be young.”

“Foolish.”

“They’re having fun.”

“Shut up. They’re stupid.”

“So you’re not into drinking at parties?” 

“Touche,” Bucky nodded, resigned to the fact he lost that round. “I’m not, like, dumb. That’s all Clint. I’m actually rather responsible.”

Laughing, Steve adjusted his arm around Bucky’s shoulders, the action pulling Bucky closer to his side. “I’m sure you’re the most responsible one there.” 

“Shit!”

Steve looked down at him with concern, “what?” 

“We had that fucking online maths homework thing for tonight! I didn’t do it.”

“What?”

Bucky sighed and flung his head back, “you set it!”

“The test?”

Shrugging, Bucky pouted. “I didn’t do it!” 

“Why not?” 

“Stressing about what to wear over here.”

“It was set yesterday.”

Groaning, Bucky threw his hands up, “I’m not good at maths so I put it off! Obviously.” 

“You are good at maths. Don’t worry about it. I’ll mark it as handed in.”

“Maybe dating you will give me some perks,” Bucky muttered, causing Steve to laugh. “I’m not dating an older man for money. No, I’m dating him to get out of homework.” 

“We’ll do it later, together.”

“Gross.”

Laughing still, Steve shook his head and started the movie again. Bucky paid enough attention to know what was happening on screen but his thoughts started to wonder as the movie went on. His gaze drifted across Steve’s, surprisingly, modern style house. It was practically the opposite of Bucky’s house. Where Bucky’s house was cold and unwelcoming, bar his room thank you, Steve’s was warm and homely. Somewhere Bucky wanted to be, somewhere that felt like home. 

Home had never really been a thing with Bucky. His orphanage hadn’t been home. His boarding house in Germany wasn’t a home. Pierce’s house wasn’t his home anymore then his school was. For years Bucky had considered himself a drifter. He had come to America when he was eleven but he had never felt like he belonged. The closest he had ever come was with his friends. And while he loved them more than anything else, it wasn’t the same as actually having a home. 

Sue him. He was a kid. He was young and really just wanted somewhere to call home for the first time. And Steve’s house? It was somewhere that he wanted to call home. It was perfect for it. As Bucky looked around he realised that it wasn’t the actual, physical, house that made it seem like the best home Bucky could ever have. But the other man in there. Steve. It was Steve who made the house warm and welcoming and comfortable and - and home. Bucky could get used to it. He feared he already was. 

“What do you want to do now?”

Bucky blinked, “what?”

“What do you want to do now?”

 

The TV was now black and Steve was looking at him expectantly. Apparently, the movie was already over. “Do you know the time?”

“Eleven.”

“Why am I so tired? Jesus.”

“Probably because you’re still recovering. You should probably go to bed.”

“Don’t want to go home,” Bucky replied. Steve stayed silent. Bucky’s eyes lit up. “You have a double bed, right?”

Steve nodded, clearly trying not to laugh. “I do.”

“Great! I can stay here tonight there,” Bucky said confidently before trailing off with “I mean if that’s alright with you and stuff.” 

“It’s alright with me.” 

“I’m not having sex with you though, I know I said I wanted to but I changed my mind.”

“Oh - I didn’t - No, that’s not what I -” Steve stopped when he saw the troublemaker smile on Bucky’s face. Bucky’s grin grew. “Come on.”

The two of them got up, Steve ferrying their glasses to the kitchen before grabbing Bucky’s hand and pulling them down the hall. Bucky stopped them when they came to a section of wall covered in photos. He liked how many photos Steve had on his walls. His house had some strange statues and a few marbel things but nothing personal. Aside from a few pictures of Brock and him standing with medals or trophies. To show off, obviously. Steve, however, had personal pictures. 

Pointing to a photo of Steve and two girls, Bucky asked: “who are they?” 

“Peggy and Sharon. I went to teachers college with Sharon and Peggy’s my ex.”

“Do you still like her?”

“No.”

“How long did you date for?”

Steve shrugged, watching Bucky closely, “two years.”

“That’s a long time. Did you love her?”

“I thought I did,” Steve answered and at Bucky’s look continued. “I think I admired her, and I liked her a lot. We’re still good friends. But I never truly loved her.”

“What about Sharon?”

“We were like brother and sister.”

Bucky nodded. Had he been jealous? He wasn’t too sure, he didn’t think he had ever actually been jealous before. Nat had always described it as almost hating the person, Bucky didn’t hate Peggy. He stared at the photo. She was very pretty, she and Steve looked good together. He still didn’t hate her. If he had been jealous he wasn’t anymore. He trusted that Steve wasn’t lying to him. That he truly didn’t like her anymore.

When they started walking again Bucky spoke up. “I’ve never actually dated anyone before.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. People think I sleep around and stuff but it’s all rumours. I’ve even spread a few.”

“What do you mean?”

Going to answer, his reply got caught on his tongue when they walked into the room. Steve’s bedroom was so - so nice. Bucky was in love. The bed was up against an exposed brick wall and Steve’s clothes were hung up on an exposed rack. There were huge windows on one side of the wall with seats built in. Even half unpacked the space was already amazing. The entire space felt so airy and so lived in. Again, the feeling of home hit Bucky hard. 

“I think I’m in love with your room.”

“Thank you,” Steve smiled at him. “It’s going to be better once I get my easel up.”

“Really?” Bucky asked, grin on face. Steve nodded and pointed to a clear space just in front of the windows were a few boxes sat against the wall. “It’s going to look incredible.”

Steve smiled at him again, moving towards a chest of drawers. “Do you want to sleep in one of my shirts?”

“Hell yes.”

Pulling out a standard white t-shirt, Steve threw it to Bucky who had taken up sitting on the edge of the bed. He watched as Steve went and closed the curtains and flicked on a heater in the corner. So domestic and simple yet making feel so warm inside. The older man took his own clothes and pushed open a door opposite the windows. “Get dressed, Buck, I’ll be back in a second.”

Was Bucky upset that they were getting dressed in separate rooms? Yes. Why? He wanted to see Steve’s - clearly buff - chest. Not his fault Steve was hot. Pulling off his clothes Bucky made them into a neat pile on the bay window. The only downside to him staying the night was that he would need to get home early in order to change for church. He very much doubted Pierce would be happy if Bucky turned up wearing a leather jacket. 

A few moments later Steve came out - and Holy Hell. Bucky was about to pass out. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. Both of them took a few seconds to look the other up and down. The fact that Steve did so didn’t slip by Bucky’s mind. Even as he ogled the man - god - before him. They made eye contact, Steve blushing slightly as Bucky tried to control his runaway thoughts. He was a teenage boy. It was hard. 

Steve stepped closer to the bed, pulling the duvet down. Bucky didn’t miss the few side glances Steve sent his way. When Steve gestured, Bucky climbed into the bed. It was as big as his at home, which meant the two of them could sleep on it and never touch. Bucky was hoping that didn’t happen. When he was in, sitting up with his bare legs stretched out in front of him, Steve got in. Turning the lights off and plunging them into darkness.

“You alright, Steve?” 

“Yeah. Why?”

“We’re sitting here in silence.”

“Sorry, Buck,” Steve said before moving so he was actually laying down. Bucky followed, wiggling closer so they were pressed against each other. “This is all a bit new to me.”

Bucky nodded in the dark. “Same. Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we cuddle?” Bucky asked. Steve laughed lightly, pulling Bucky flush against him. Bucky flipped to his side and wrapped his arms and top leg around Steve. Steve had his arms around Bucky’s back and neck, his hand playing with Bucky’s hair. Bucky smiled into Steve’s bare chest. “I really like you, Steve.”

“I really like you, Bucky.”

They lay quietly for some time. Breathing in sync before Bucky laughed quietly. “I actually feel bad for not doing the homework. And I never do maths homework.”

“You’ve handed in practically everything I’ve set you.” 

“Yeah, you. I never handed in anything for Mrs Van Dyne.”

“Can I ask you something?” Seve asked and Bucky hummed his consent. “All of the other teachers said that you, that you’re not well behaved in their classes. I never found that.”

Bucky shrugged, “that’s not a question. But, to answer, I thought you were hot.”

“Really?”

“And, to get really deep. You were kind of the first teacher to actually try with me? Most of them see who my dad is and do whatever I want because they don’t want to make Pierce angry or whatever. You kept going.”

“What do you mean? They don’t try?”

Again, Bucky shrugged. “Teachers kind of ignore me. I’m pretty sure a few of them have actually bumped my grades up, or at least have been generous with my marks, because they don’t want to deal with Pierce. A lot of the students are like that as well. Everyone knows that Pierce is my guardian and no one wants to get on his bad side. When I was thirteen I made a friend, Brock and I both like him. Jack Rollins. His mother told him not to be friends with us because of Pierce. Ever since then I built up this reputation. Bad boy, untouchable. It’s easier than having to deal with people ignoring me because of Pierce.”

“That’s awful, Buck. I’m sorry you had to go through that.” 

“Not your fault,” Bucky replied instantly. Steve hummed, letting Bucky know that he didn’t agree. “And you’re here now, so it’s fine.”

Even in the darkness, Bucky could tell that Steve was smiling, and that made Bucky smile as well. It made him happy to know that Steve was happy. “I want you to be happy, Buck.”

“If,” Bucky said after a few moments, “you, at any time, want to be the kind of teacher that stops setting homework. That would also make me happy.” 

“We’ll see.”

“Everyone in maths is going to love me,” Bucky replied, a teasing tint in his tone. Steve tensed, Bucky looking up at him in concern. “Steve?”

It took Steve a second to reply. “You know. You’re aware that you can’t tell anyone about this, Buck?” Before Bucky could reply Steve continued, nervously rambling now. “And it’s not because I don’t want to tell. I would. I want to. But, you know, but we can’t because of it all and -”

“Steve. It’s fine. I know.”

“Good. That’s good.”

“We can tell everyone after I graduate that we’re together.”

“You planning out our lives already?” Steve replied, laughter in his tone. Bucky didn’t say anything, letting them lie silence. It was amazing, very peaceful and relaxing. Much better than just laying in bed at home. Steve playing with his hair was more than perfect. From the calm look on his face, Bucky figured that Steve agreed with him. Which was good, great actually, because Bucky really didn’t want to move from this spot. Like, ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! You may see the title first but this is on a semi-hiatus. It is not done!! Don't worry. I just need to take a break for a few minutes. Thank you all for reading this far and for all the lovely comments I've gotten. It means the world to me. Again, this story will be back, I don't know when. Thank you!

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think :)


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